


Surviving Court 101

by Carissa190



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, College Student Nicole Haught, Dubious Consent, Elizabethan England, Eventual Smut, F/F, Minor Angst, Noble Nicole Haught, Noble Waverly Earp, Passes the Soul Mate AU Squint Test, Queen Elizabeth I is the Queen of Sass and Smarts, Soul Mate AU, The good stuff in Chapter 13, Wayhaught - Freeform, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 88,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carissa190/pseuds/Carissa190
Summary: College student Nicole Haught is run off the road during a storm on her drive up to school in California.  She wakes up, not in California, not even in her own time, but in England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I.  Hiding her true identity, as well as her gender, Nicole must navigate the social vipers' nest that is life at court as well as try and get back to her own time.
Relationships: Nicole Haught & Randy Nedley, Nicole Haught/Chrissy Nedley, Perry Crofte/Chrissy Nedley, Stephanie Jones/Champ Hardy, Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 217
Kudos: 325





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first foray into writing fanfic. I have never been to England, nor Queen Elizabeth's time. I appreciate any feedback!

The past few months had been a whirlwind of preparations for eighteen year old Nicole Haught as she flipped between nervous anxiety and manic excitement. She was finally going off to college and getting out of Los Angeles. Now, don’t misunderstand her, LA is awesome… But Nicole was tired of big city life. She was going off to UC Davis, a small university town where everyone got everywhere by biking or walking. And if she ever found herself needing a taste of the big city again, Sacramento and San Francisco were just a quick drive away.

So after all her months of preparations and goodbyes, Nicole was on her way, her car all packed with everything she could possibly need for two years on her own, away from home. Driving up to UC Davis for seven hours… yep seven hours of nothing but cows… and fields… God, it was boring. All of that nervousness and excitement had sustained Nicole through the first hour. Into hour two, and the teenager’s iPod wasn’t even entertaining her anymore and there were no radio stations in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. She probably should’ve brought an audio book or something…

Anyway, that’s where Nicole’s story begins… The important part starts now…

About three hours in, the sky was beginning to darken under thick gray clouds. It looked like rain. And in forty or so minutes, it came crashing down. But not just rain, there were horrible winds, so bad the torrential rain was falling almost horizontally, and Nicole's car was buffeted back and forth as she drove between hills and mountains. Even with her headlights on and windshield wipers going full speed, Nicole could barely see anything. Slowing down as much as she could and still be going forward, she was barely inching forward. In fact, an old lady passed Nicole honking and swearing. Mean old bird.

Embarrassed, Nicole sped up a little and found she could handle the car as long as she maintained a death grip on the steering wheel.

The storm proceeded to get worse and worse. Just as she was coming out from between two hills, Nicole noticed a pair of headlights coming straight for her. She honked and flashed her high beams but the headlights just kept plowing towards her. At the last second Nicole swerved violently to get out of the way and ended up skidding off the shoulder and going headfirst into a drainage ditch, and quite literally headfirst into the steering wheel. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was seeing the taillights of the asshole that ran her off the road just keep going. Jerk.


	2. Chapter 2

Nicole was awoken by the bright sun shining warmly on her face and it seemed as though the events of the previous night had been nothing but a dream, if not for the fact that her eyebrow hurt and she was still in a ditch on the side of the road… a dirt road. Struggling to order her tumultuous thoughts, the teenager couldn’t remember the freeway turning into a dirt road… Maybe she had taken a wrong turn sometime in the darkness. Pulling out her phone, the college student tried to check her location, but found she had no service. _Of course,_ she groaned to herself, _there’s no cell coverage in the middle of Bumfuck, where people need it most in case of an emergency._ Looking down the roadway, Nicole figured she might as well continue along the road and hope she came across a gas station or at least someone who could give her directions, so she pulled back onto the path and trundled along.

Now, while she hadn’t expected a gas station anytime soon, after driving for fifteen miles, she started to get nervous. Eventually she came across some farms, but the people working in the fields dropped their tools and ran off screaming when she waved to them. _Jeez, my poor baby must look a sight after running off the road_ , she thought to herself and patted the dashboard comfortingly. Nicole eventually came to a tree that had fallen during the storm and now blocked the road. But luckily, there was a quaint little town just up the road maybe a mile, so she pulled the car into a stand of trees and bushes. With a car as full as hers, someone was bound to think there was something valuable inside and try and steal it. 

After ensuring that the car was well hidden and locked, she started off on foot towards the town. Twenty minutes later, she was striding down its main street and looking around in confusion. It looked like it’d come out of the Middle Ages, complete with thatched roofs. The townspeople were giving the eighteen year old weird looks and the men were shielding the women. Sparing a surreptitious glance down at her Converse, blue jeans, and baggy sweater, Nicole couldn’t quite figure out what was the source of the strange looks; surely despite their homespun wool and cotton clothes, she didn’t stand out _that_ much. Ducking her head and pulling her sweater’s hood up over her strawberry blonde hair, she tentatively probed the goose egg above her eyebrow, but it hadn’t looked that bad when she checked it in the rearview mirror, she’d even done her best to clean up the split skin.

“Damn, these people really take their Renaissance Faire seriously. Whatever, someone has to have a phone or know how to get back on the road to Davis,” she muttered to herself. 

She ducked into the first building she came across and was immediately assailed by the delicious scents of baking bread and Nicole’s stomach answered with a very loud grumble. The baker eyed the teenager warily from behind his counter but didn’t back away. 

“Hello!” She greeted the baker in her most congenial voice.

“Good ‘morrow” he responded gruffly.

“Would you happen to have a phone I could borrow? Or at least know the way to Davis or Sacramento?” Nicole asked.

“Dunno wha’ a ‘phone’ is an’ never heard of Davis or Sacramento.” He responded, still gruff. Nicole got the impression he wanted her out of his shop five minutes ago.

“Okay could I at least get some bread? I’m starving.” She reached into her jean pocket for some money.

He eyed the hooded teen suspiciously but still pulled a steaming warm, tasty-smelling loaf of bread out from the oven. Mouth watering, she pulled out her wallet.

“Do you accept debit?”

“Dunno wha’ tha’ is.”

“Okayyyy… how about credit?” she asked drolly.

Eyeing Nicole even more suspiciously than before, he answered, “Ye won’ find no credit here.”

“Okay. I guess that makes sense, what with this being a Middle Ages town.” Cracking a wide smile, she tried joking with him, but he remained stone-faced. “Tough crowd,” Nicole murmured, pulling out some cash. “Fine. How much?”

“A shilling” he responded, eyeing Nicole’s money with trepidation and suspicion.

“And how much is that in dollars?” She quirked an eyebrow and waved some bills. _Jeez this guy is really taking this seriously. How am I supposed to have old timey money on me?_

“Dunno wha’ ‘dollars’ is, but those won work here” he nodded at the five and ten dollar bills she was stretching out to him.

“What? Am I supposed to barter for the bread?” The student joked, but he shrugged and responded with “Wha’ do ye have to offer?” Blinking, she pulled out everything from her pockets but his eyes lighted on Nicole’s Bic lighter. “Wha’s tha’ thing?”

_Really?_ “It’s a lighter…” she trailed off but was met with a blank look. “For making fire?” And with that she spun the wheel and clicked the fire into existence, and with a yelp he scrabbled away from her.

Nicole looked up to see his eyes wide with amazement… or fear… maybe a little of both. He tentatively reached out a hand and touched it, then jerked back immediately as if afraid of being burned. The redhead took his large and calloused hand and curled his fingers around it to show it was safe, pressing his thumb firmly down on the wheel to spin it and click the flame into existence again. His eyes grew wider, this time with amazement.

“I’ll take it for two loaves of bread” and he set another large steaming loaf beside the first.

“Agreed!” Nicole passed the lighter over and grabbed the two heavy, dark loaves and hungrily bit into the first one.

It was denser than she was expecting. Not the light fluffy loaf from home, but heavy and filled with nuts. The baker was too busy playing with his new toy and showing it to the customer who had come in after Nicole to see the teen’s reaction to the bread. So she walked out into the town slowly and carefully chewing on the bread, and despite her initial surprise it was still very good. The redhead walked up to a man sweeping his front step, although it seemed there was only more dirt beneath the dirt, so maybe he was trying to dig a trench with a broom.

He watched Nicole come toward him and eyed her with extreme trepidation, so the redhead beamed her brightest smile. 

“Excuse me, sir, but would you happen to know the way to Davis or Sacramento?”

His only response was to just slowly shake his head, so she instead tried asking, “Which way is north then?” He pointed vaguely up the road where in the hazy distance Nicole could see a sprawling city. Great! Someone there had to know where Davis was! The teen pulled her phone out to check the time, but immediately he reacted violently, cringing away as though she had brandished a weapon. 

“Whoa! It’s just a phone, dude!” Nicole tried to assure him. He stopped cringing but was now staring at the phone. 

“Phone?” He murmured slowly… ah, so he _was_ capable of speech!

“Yeah! So what’s that town up there called?” Nicole asked pointing to the one in the distance.

“London” he murmured distractedly, still eyeing the phone in her hand, which she decided to turn off to save battery, no use leaving it on where there’s no coverage.

“Haha,” Nicole laughed sarcastically. “What’s it really called?” 

“London” he mumbled again.

“Wait, where am I?” The redhead asked, startled.

“Village of Monchester…” at the blank look in Nicole’s brown eyes he continued. “In England.”

“What?!” Nicole spluttered, jaw agape.

He looked at Nicole in true confusion and with no small amount of suspicion. “Where’d ye think ye were?”

“Somewhere in Bumfuck, Northern California.”

“Dunno where Bumfuck or Northern California is. Yer a long way from ‘ome, lad.”

“I see that now…” She mumbled to herself in consternation, glossing over his use of the term ‘lad’ as she was used to it due to her tall, lithe figure and propensity for baggy clothes.

“‘Ow’d ye get ‘ere?”

“There was a storm…” Nicole trailed off, scrunching her forehead and probing the bump above her eyebrow as she tried to remember how hard she hit her head.

“What’s today?” the teen asked as he continued to eye her warily.

“July the 17th in the 24th year of ‘Er Royal ‘Ighness Queen Elizabeth’s reign…” she just stared at him blankly so he continued. “…In the year of our Lord 1583.”

The redhead almost threw up what little she had in her stomach, not at all sure the bread would’ve tasted as good coming back up as going down. Suddenly feeling dizzy, she sat down heavily on the hard packed dirt that he had so kindly swept for her. 

“This must be a dream,” she mumbled to herself.

“I’m sure tha’ if anyone were able to ‘elp ye get ‘ome, they’d be in London.” He murmured consolingly with a pat to Nicole shoulder.

“Yeah,” Nicole jumped on that as a plan of action “Yeah I’m sure. How far a walk is that?”

“A little less than ‘alf a day’s.” The teen must’ve looked crestfallen, because he followed up quickly with “But William is ‘eading into town with goods to sell, perhaps ye can catch a ride on ‘is cart with ‘im.”

“Thank you, thank you very much. I just need to go gather some things and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll talk to ‘im then. I think ‘e’s leaving within the hour. ‘Urry back, lad.”

Nicole started a bit at being called “lad” again but with her height, slim build, and pixie cut, she’d often been mistaken for a boy. The teen jogged back to the car and finished the first loaf of bread on the way. Once there, she gathered anything she might need into her black Jansport backpack: some Power Bars, as well as the second loaf since Nicole didn’t know when she’d be able to eat again, especially if she couldn’t get her hands on some medieval cash; her history textbook hoping it would have some important information she could use; a first aid kit (with an RN mom and an EMT father, it was quite an extensive kit); a Swiss army knife; a road flare courtesy of Nicole’s parents; a spare set of socks and underclothes and an extra shirt. Also, remembering that, with the exception of Queen Elizabeth, women were not highly regarded at this time, and since she’d already passed as a boy in the town, Nicole decided to change into a sports bra. With just a few more essentials such as a flashlight, another lighter, paper and pens, a book to read for pleasure, some Scotch and some Absinthe to come to terms with this situation, she was ready to set off. Nicole locked the car again and headed back up the road.

As Nicole entered town she saw her font of information talking to a man she could only guess was William, seeing as they were standing next to a loaded cart. 

“This is the lad I was telling ye about.” The old man was telling William, as he eyed Nicole and grunted his assent.

“Thank you so much, I can’t tell you both how much I appreciate this.” She shook their hands. “And, I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name” Nicole mentioned to the surprisingly kind old man.

“John” He smiled a wide, gap-toothed smile at her.

“Thank you, John.” She beamed back at him and hiked her backpack higher on her shoulders.

The redhead then turned to William who seemed nice enough and helped the teen onto the front bench of the cart and clambered up beside her. With a crack of his whip, the old mule started tugging the cart along on the road to London. _Well,_ Nicole told herself, _I’d always wanted to visit England._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee bit of smut in this one.

It was a silent but bumpy journey. William, it seemed, was a man of few words. So under the heat of the sun and the swaying of the cart, not to mention her mental exhaustion at finding herself several thousand miles and hundreds of years from home, Nicole settled into as comfortable a position as one could get in on a wooden, jerking cart, and fell into a light sleep.

When the lazy Millennial woke up from her nap, the little village of Monchester was far behind in the distance and there was nothing but fields to the left and forest to the right, but ahead, rising considerably higher above the horizon than before, were London’s monstrous city walls.

About half an hour later, they joined the queue of carts lining up to get in through the city gates. In a short amount of time, they were passing through the gates with bored looking sentries stationed on either side, and entered the city of London. 

Nicole was immediately assailed by a variety of sounds, and unfortunately, a variety of smells, not all of them pleasant. There was a cacophony of voices everywhere; of people hawking their commodities, and yelling at each other, of children screaming and playing as they dashed through the streets, dodging people. As to the smells, Nicole’s mouth watered anew at the smell of bread baking and meat cooking on a spit over a fire, but there was also the ever present smell of dung and filth, further exacerbated as someone exited a door just behind them and sloshed the contents of a chamber pot across the street, there was also a man working leather, and a man dipping wicks and candles half-formed in tallow which was rendered animal fat, and _ugh_ , did it reek. Entering the marketplace, William dropped Nicole off so he could go set up his wares, but just as the redhead was about to walk away, he said the only words he’d spoken to Nicole the whole time “If ye wan’ to earn some money, I could use some ‘elp setting up the stall an’ selling these.” He nodded at the pile of goods behind him on the cart.

With a grin, Nicole turned around and hopped back into the cart and they headed off to find an open space in the marketplace. Once there, the two worked diligently to set up the stall, laying out all the things he had brought to sell. William was a fair blacksmith and had many tools on offer, but also some crude yet beautiful jewelry. 

To pass the time, the two talked a bit. Or rather, Nicole talked and he grunted. But eventually he spoke, only to ask “Do ye ‘ave any form o’ protection?” So the former Girl Scout proudly pulled out her well-loved Swiss army knife and he grunted. “Tha’s not good enough. Yer alone in this city an’ yer sure to be an easy mark with tha’ big knapsack on yer back.” He then passed her a crude but sharp dagger and sheath. “This can be part o’ yer pay.” Eyes wide as she turned the gift over admiringly, she nodded and added the sheath to her belt.

As the sun passed overhead from late morning to early evening, they saw many different kinds of people, from ugly warty old men and women to finely dressed servants on errands for their rich masters. Paying close attention as William sold several items to passerby, Nicole learned the valuable lessons of how to haggle and what can be bought for what amount of money, as well as how to tell the difference between the coins. One merchant passed by and casually glanced over their displayed goods but didn’t see what he was looking for. However, he caught sight of Nicole taking notes on everything she’d learned and he exclaimed “You’re a scribe?!” Startled, the teenager looked up and blinked in confusion.

“You’re a scribe?” he repeated, pointing at her hastily scribbled notes.

“I can read and write, yes.” Nicole responded, but glanced at William in confusion, but received only a shrug in response.

“What is that contraption you’re using, lad?” Ah, yes, something as simple as a ballpoint pen would be nigh on magical in Tudor England, Nicole realized with some relief.

Holding it aloft, she described, “It’s called a pen; the ink is inside so no dipping necessary.”

“And that vellum, how did you get it so smooth and white?”

“It’s called paper, and I’m quite sure how they make it, but in my land we buy it in bulk.”

“Are they for sale?” He asked Nicole excitedly.

Surprised, the redhead looked at William, who gave the slightest nod.

“They can be… these are my personal effects, but I could be persuaded to part with them,” Nicole replied slyly.

“Name your price.”

Wide-eyed, Nicole looked at William who shrugged and mouthed “Ten.”

Nodding, the redhead turned and looked at the merchant, but said “Fifteen.”

The merchant didn’t even blink. “I’ll give you twenty crowns if you give me three blank sheets of that pay-pur.” He struggled a bit with the unfamiliar word.

Startled, as the eighteen year old had been expecting shillings, not crowns she replied, “Deal!” With that they shook hands and exchanged stationery for money.

William looked flabbergasted. Nicole surmised he also didn’t expect her to get that much.

Soon enough, the sun was setting and people were packing up whatever hadn’t sold, and William started to do the same. With Nicole’s help, it was all packed surely back on the cart within ten minutes and he handed the teen a little cloth sack with some money in it as her pay for the day. The teen pulled out the 20 crowns she had earned on her own and added it to the sack, then stuck the whole thing in her front pocket where it was nice and safe. 

Nicole shook William’s hand fervently. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Be safe, be smar’, an’ the cleaner inns are on the so’west side o’ town. I sugges’ the White Dragon. It has the least amount of bedbugs.” She shuddered, eyes wide with disgust, and he laughed. “I wish ye the best o’ luck.”

Swallowing hard around the lump in her throat, Nicole nodded curtly; it wouldn’t be very manly to cry and Nicole’s safety depended on passing as a man. Taking a moment to watch William as trundled back towards the gates to London, Nicole hiked her backpack up on her shoulders, and spun on her heel to head southwest, asking passersby where the White Dragon was. Judging by the swinging sign with a painted white dragon rampant, Nicole had finally found it, but full dark had already settled.

Pushing open the door, Nicole entered and stopped in awe. There was so much light and warmth and smells and voices going on in there. People, huddled around the fire, laughing and talking over their pitchers of… did they drink beer or mead? And were those pitchers or flagons? With a determined set to her jaw, Nicole realized she had a lot to study up on if she didn’t want to call attention to herself. The redhead weaved her way through the tables and up to the barkeep… no, tavern keeper, she corrected herself. 

“Hullo.” He greeted Nicole warmly enough even after eyeing the teenager up and down. “You must be from far out of town in those outlandish clothes. I’m Randy.”

“Hello, I’m Nic, and I am from _very_ far out of town,” Nicole responded. “I’m looking for a room for the night and I was told this was the place to come.”

“Mine’s the cleanest in the city,” he proclaimed proudly, chest puffing up as his smile broadened.

“How much for a room for the night then?”

“Single or shared?”

“Single.” She responded almost too quickly, but she couldn’t risk someone discovering her secret on accident.

Luckily, Randy didn’t even bat an eye, just nodded and continued, “Ten shillings, but for an extra five, I’ll throw in a hot meal and drink. One more gets you a blanket.”

Clasping his hand, she gave it a firm pump and responded, “Done, what’s for supper?”

“Rabbit stew,” The redhead blanched and tried not to think of her little sister’s bunny “Pancakes” back home. “Grab a seat anywhere and I’ll bring everything to you.” 

Just as Nicole was turning to go find an empty seat near the fire, she spotted a buxom blonde girl, her hair swept back into a bun, cleaning a table with a rag. She looked up and caught Nicole’s warm brown eyes with her own deep blue ones, and Nicole grinned at her. Blushing, she ducked her gaze, but immediately looked back up through her lashes and smiled broadly, dimples popping through. Startling the two out of their locked gazes, the tavern keeper called “Chrissy!” and she looked past the redhead to the tavern keeper and answered, “Yes, father!” Ducking her head again and blushing, she smiled shyly at Nicole, as she hurried past to her father.

 _She’s certainly cute enough,_ Nicole thought to herself as, grinning widely, she sat down at the table Chrissy had just cleaned _. Damn, it could never happen, though. I’m supposed to be a boy, which she’d discover was a lie soon enough if I followed through._ Nicole groaned and let her head hit the table in disappointment.

The redhead jerked upright, coloring slightly, at the giggle Chrissy let slip as she set down a steaming bowl of stew and a room key. “I hope you like it, I made it myself. Also, your blanket is on your bed upstairs, first door on your right.”

Unable to help herself, wide smirk on her face, Nicole flirted, “I’m sure anything of yours is sure to taste divine.” Nicole flicked the tip of her tongue out to wet her lip, and bit it lightly as she continued, “Is there anything else the tavern can provide me with to keep warm?” The blonde blushed deeply, but grinned at Nicole and winked as she replied in a mock stern voice, “A second blanket will cost you another shilling, sir. But trust me the blanket will keep you warm enough.” With a good natured chuckle, the redhead passed the blonde three pence for indulging her, letting her fingers linger on Chrissy’s for just a moment longer than necessary as blue and brown gazes met and held before the blonde gave a tiny wink and sauntered away, her hips swishing, which Nicole certainly appreciated.

Nicole turned her attention to her stew, unable to deny her appetite any longer; it smelled so good and her stomach rumbled so loudly that she dug right in without any further thoughts of her sister’s pet back home. The first spoonful scalded the impatient teen’s throat, so she tried to relieve it with a drink from the accompanying flagon, but spluttered to discover it was mead. Taking a smaller sip and she found that it was pretty good, sweet with the honey it was made of. After blowing copiously on the next savory spoonful, Nicole noticed that there were new flavors bursting across her tastebuds, but she still would’ve killed for a burger.

Sitting quietly, basking in the warmth of the fire and in her belly as she enjoyed her mead and stew, the redhead felt her limbs growing ever heavier as her head dipped periodically in her struggle to stay awake, and she was getting tired of the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, glances and stares she was getting from the other guests. Draining the last of her mead and licking the bowl clean, she headed upstairs to the room Chrissy had told Nicole was hers. It was small, but like William and Randy had said, clean. Dropping her backpack and kicking it safely under the bed, she climbed into the sheets under the blanket on the mattress stuffed with straw. It was a bit prickly but in her exhaustion she was ready to forgo requesting 1000 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets.

She awoke later to a light tapping on her bedroom door. The teen glanced around blearily in confusion, this wasn’t her room… was she at the dorm in Davis already? But then she noticed the candle, burned almost all the way down, and remembered with a start, where, and _when_ , she was. The light tapping came again. She struggled up out of the sheets and stumbled to the door, opening it and squinting bleary-eyed to see who it was.

Blue eyes sparkled mischievously in the flickering candlelight as plump, pink lips twitched into a smirk. “Chrissy?” The redhead blinked repeatedly in surprise at seeing the blonde, tavern keeper’s daughter standing outside in just a light cotton nightgown, opening the door wider. “What are... mmf” With a firm kiss, she cut Nicole off mid-question. Now the teen, undeniably a flirt, knew she was supposed to be careful… but the human brain stops working when a pretty girl kisses you. So instinctively, Nicole found herself deepening the kiss as she brushed her tongue lightly over Chrissy’s bottom lip, and she clasped at Chrissy’s hips in support as the blonde pushed the two into the privacy of the room. The blonde gasped into the kiss, and swiped her tongue over the redhead’s, moaning as Nicole suckled her tongue in response and gripped her hips tightly. Chrissy pulled away and turned to shut and lock the door behind them. The nightgown had slipped off her right shoulder, and Nicole couldn’t resist brushing her lips along the exposed shoulder, stamping kisses along the way, and licking her way up her neck to tug her earlobe in between her teeth. The curvy blonde gasped and pressed her ass back into Nicole’s front, grabbing onto the redhead’s hands and sliding them from her hips, up her stomach to firmly clutch her full breasts through the nightgown, and with Nicole’s exploratory squeeze of her breasts, the blonde’s head dropped back onto Nicole’s shoulder as she sighed in pleasure. Chrissy’s nipples tightened impossibly harder under Nicole’s grasping palms as the redhead sucked and licked her now perfectly placed pulse point. The blonde’s moans and pants were growing in volume, so the teen spun her around intending to swallow them with her mouth, but Chrissy pushed Nicole away. Thinking Chrissy had changed her mind, the redhead immediately took three steps back towards her bed to give the blonde space, but in response, the curvy blonde shimmied her nightgown the rest of the way off, revealing her milky skin and heavy breasts, flat stomach leading towards rounded hips and bottom as well as a patch of curly blonde hair nestled in between her shapely thighs. Licking her suddenly dry lips, and panting with desire, Nicole’s brown eyes watched, pupils dilated as Chrissy slinked towards her wearing nothing but a smile on her flushed, kiss-swollen lips. She brought those soft, full red lips right up to the redhead’s, brushing them together softly, but with an abrupt shove, sent Nicole down to sit on the bed and straddled her, sitting firmly in the redhead’s lap. Blue eyes looking deep into brown, Chrissy’s gaze flicked quickly up to the bump and cut on Nicole’s forehead and pressed her lips softly against the wound in a tender kiss as the redhead shivered at the action. Tentatively, Nicole ran her hands up those shapely thighs and hips, thumbs brushing across her warm, soft stomach, around her back and up her shoulders to press Chrissy’s chest against hers. Reconnecting their lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth, the tavern keeper’s daughter took hold of Nicole’s right arm, pulling the attached hand from her back and guiding it to her center. Breath hitching at the wave of arousal that surged through her at Chrissy’s boldness, the redhead brushed a finger through the blonde’s wetness, and across her bundle of nerves, causing Chrissy to jerk into Nicole’s hand as she gasped into their kiss.

The blonde broke the kiss to lean her head back and moan wantonly as the redhead swiped her finger across that bud again, rocking her hips into Nicole’s hand chasing more friction. Gathering more wetness onto her fingertips, Nicole readied herself to brush her again, but Chrissy leaned forward and roughly bit the teen’s ear and tugged, then growled, “Don’t tease me.” Lifting herself a little, she grasped Nicole’s hand, and sank herself right down onto her fingers. Both moaned loudly at action, her at being filled, and Nicole in pure arousal as Chrissy’s warm, wet walls clamped down on her fingers. She rocked herself onto the redhead’s, chasing her pleasure, and Nicole leant her aid by curling her fingers against her front wall. Chrissy surged forward and hungrily claimed Nicole’s lips, moaning and panting her pleasure into the redhead’s mouth as she rocked frantically into her hand. Several minutes of a frenzied rhythm later and Nicole could feel her getting tighter, her soft gasps coming quickly before with a shudder she came, spilling warm, wet liquid across the redhead’s hand and wrist; Nicole left her fingers inside the blonde’s fluttering center as she caught her breath with her head on the redhead’s shoulder. 

“Chrissy,” the teen whispered, wanting to come up with some explanation for why they couldn’t continue, but her voice faltered as the blonde kissed and licked, then sucked hard on Nicole’s pulse point, absolutely the redhead’s most erogenous zone, so the teen moaned loudly in response and lost herself, and her train of thought, to the pleasure of Chrissy sucking and biting her neck.

Groaning in pleasure as she stretched her sore muscles languidly, Nicole woke up much later in the pre-dawn light, as Chrissy was slipping out of bed and putting her clothes on. Sitting up, the teen looked down up in shock as she found herself also bare, Nicole’s blood turning to ice water in fear. “Chrissy! About last night, I can explain…” she started to explain in a panic, but leaning over she cut the redhead off with a quick kiss. “Everything is okay, Nicole, your secret is safe with me. I understand the freedom and safety dressing as a boy provides… and don’t worry, I like girls, too.” She winked at Nicole and silently slipped out of the room, pausing just before she left to say, “Thanks for last night. I _really_ enjoyed myself. I hope you were warm enough and that you enjoy your stay at the White Dragon.” And with another saucy wink and a blown kiss, she slipped out to start her chores for the day. 

The smug teen couldn’t stop the smirk from stretching across her mouth as she lay back down on the mattress, arms crossed her head. Fifteen minutes later, she decided it was time to head downstairs and grab some breakfast and make a plan for the day. Who would be able to help her get back home? At this point, the teen was willing to start consulting magicians and sorcerers and warty old witches. 

Downstairs it was much quieter and emptier than it had been the night before, just Nicole and one tired man gazing blearily at his breakfast as he picked at it. Taking a seat at a table just as Chrissy swept by to plop a plate of food and some water down in front of her, the blonde winked, but just before she could go, Nicole grabbed her hand. She stopped and looked back at her lover with a look half quizzical and half hopeful, blue eyes shining brightly. Holding on, she brushed her thumb lightly across the blonde’s soft wrist, and asked “Chrissy, where would I have to go to find someone who deals in….magic?” The teen whispered the last word, glancing nervously at the only other occupant of the tavern at this early hour.

Twining her fingers through Nicole’s, Chrissy asked, “Why? You don’t need a love potion, do you? You’re doing fine on your own.” She winked again with a smirk, before biting her bottom lip and staring deep in Nicole’s melted chocolate brown eyes.

With an answering grin and wink back, the redhead clarified, “I just need some help with something only they can help me with.”

Taking a moment to think it over, the blonde told her lover that there were a few that hung around, plying their trade in back alleys near the Tower. Kissing the back of her hand in thanks, Nicole quickly let go as they heard Randy coming down the stairs calling out for Chrissy.

Giving Chrissy a kiss to the side of her head, Randy said, “Oh good, you’ve already taken care of our guest. Good girl.” He turned to Nicole then. “If you’ll be staying tonight as well, I can lock up your stuff in your room so it’s safe, waiting for you to come back.”

Nicole thought it over, but answered, “Thank you, but no. I might need all this stuff I have in my pack. However, I fully intend to come back tonight.” Smiling encouragingly at him, the redhead’s eyes flicked over his shoulder and met Chrissy’s excited blue gaze. She blushed and turned around, but not before beaming back and biting her lip.

“Of course,” Randy responded. “You’ll understand if I ask that you settle up your tab so far before heading out? Not that I don’t trust you, mind, it’s just that…”

“I completely understand.” Nodding, she pulled out the 16 shillings she owed him and passed it over.

Randy called over his shoulder to his daughter, “Pack the man a light lunch if he’s going to be out about town all day.”

“Very kind of you.” Nicole thanked him.

Chrissy handed the redhead a cloth sack. “There’s some bread, cheese, cold meats, and an apple in there for you.” Then with a final smile, she took Nicole’s dirty plate and cup and headed to the back to wash them, a slight spring in her step at the thought of what awaited her that night.

Putting the lunch in her backpack and with a wave goodbye at Randy, the teen headed out into the bright and loud city. Chrissy had informed Nicole that the Tower of London was in the east side of the city right on the River Thames, so she struck out in that direction.

It was amazing to walk through the city. In some ways it wasn’t so different from modern cities. People strolling along the streets and marketplaces while people tried to sell them anything they could. Children were playing and running through the streets, screaming and chasing each other, as well as dogs and cats. Nicole’s musings were interrupted by a series of yawns as she wondered if they had coffee in the Middle Ages. 

It was surprisingly busy for this early in the morning, but then again, back home the lazy Millennial considered anything before 10 AM early. Still, it was quieter than it had been yesterday, so some people must still be abed. Without the shifting crush of people, she easily made her way through the streets, which smelled less fetid without the heat of the sun beating down on all the filth. The closer she got, the more she could hear the gulls and the sounds of boats and fishermen from the Thames. Soon enough, when she thought it could get no louder, she turned a corner and found herself in front of the massive stone walls of the Tower. Taking a moment to gaze in awe and remember all the history that had happened, or had yet to happen, within these walls Nicole thought on how she had always wanted to take a tour of the Tower if she ever had the money to go to London, but now here she was, and there was no hope of a guided tour; not when it was still in use as a jail by the monarchy.

Down an alley to the teen’s left, she could hear people peddling charms and amulets to protect oneself from sickness, and even grant everlasting youth. Figuring it was a good place to start, the redhead headed down the alley and passed several people, each trying to sell her a potion to cure spots, or make myself invisible, and of course, love potions. Nicole didn’t bother asking any of these people, as they would obviously sell pondwater and claim it had alchemical properties to turn anything dowsed in it to gold.

Nicole did come across a few people, who lurked in the shadowy recesses of the alley and quieter… not hawking their wares and the redhead figured that if anyone could get her back, it would be these quiet, self-assured ones. Unfortunately, Nicole could only ask them if any of them had charms or potions for returning one safely to their home, but nothing that was offered seemed truly viable.

Hours passed in this way and the teen began to grow hungry. She looked up into the sky and saw that the sun was almost directly overhead so it must have been about noon, which should have been obvious since the smell of cooking filth was rising as was the heat. Finding a shady arch to sit under, Nicole pulled out the lunch Chrissy had given her, ripping the bread in half and putting the cold meats and cheese in between them. 

Just as Nicole was biting into it, two well-dressed gentleman were riding by, when one slowed behind his companion and asked Nicole what it was called.

“Umm, a sandwich,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

“Montagu!” his companion called out to him to hurry him up.

“Well met.” He greeted Nicole with a nod, and continued down the road muttering “Sandwich, sandwich…”

Finishing up her lunch, the teen decided to give up on her search for the day, deciding to instead explore the area around the Tower. Despite being in the shadow of such a famous jail, she witnessed quite a few shady looking deals and people loitering about. She tightened her backpack straps and placed her hand more firmly on her dagger handle. Just in case.

Stumbling across what looked like a game of soccer that stretched for several blocks as dozens of young men and children rushed around kicking a ball, she eagerly watched, excited to witness an early version of her favorite sport when one of the young men picked the ball up and chuck it well down the “field” towards a net strung between two buildings. Scratching her strawberry blonde head in confusion, since soccer is famous for being strictly no hands, another young man snagged the ball out of the air and threw it further along, to a third who kicked it into the net. She laughed as half the assembly cheered and half groaned before a young man gave her a playful shove into the street to join the game. For an hour, she played along, helping get the ball down field and into the other team’s net by any means necessary, foot or hand, but found she was getting tired and hungry in the late afternoon heat, so Nicole headed back to the inn and food. As well as Chrissy, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Easter Egg for history buffs here, but John Montagu, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich, is credited with inventing the "sandwich" because he didn't want to leave the gambling tables to eat. But of course, this wasn't until the mid 18th century, so maybe this was a longheld family secret for generations! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

The next two weeks were spent roaming the streets, split between looking for a sorcerer to help Nicole get back, and just exploring what there was. She tried new, and questionably sanitary, foods from hot food stalls all over the city and paid a penny to get into plays (although apparently good ol’ Billy Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe hadn’t started writing plays yet, judging by the baffled looks she would get from the ticket takers at the theatres). Despite not being the plays of the great writers she had grown up reading and hearing of, Nicole still stood in the crush of the crowd laughing and crying and groaning and moaning at the plays she did see. The redhead even joined in the throwing of rotten fruit, which one guest had been kind enough to share with her, at the actors of a particularly bad play. Nicole’s days were spent exploring the city, sometimes with Chrissy for a couple of hours as, holding hands, they walked and ate. One occasion in particular, Nicole bought her lover a ribbon for her blonde hair and they went to see a hilarious play; the teen particularly enjoyed watching her face light up with laughter as she giggled and snuggled into Nicole’s chest. After the play, as they walked home, a drunk tried to chat Chrissy up, despite Nicole’s arm around the blonde’s shoulder, but with a light shove from the redhead and an admonishment to keep walking, they stepped past him. The nights were of course spent with Chrissy, ducking in and out of each others’ rooms, trying to avoid being caught by Randy.

In truth, the displaced college student was quite enjoying her time, despite the dwindling of her money, but Nicole worked as a scribe on occasion as a way of earning some pocket change. The teenager was getting almost the full Elizabethan London experience. However, the redhead eventually got the other, more unseemly half she had been missing.

One day, during her explorations, Nicole found herself near Whitehall, the primary London residence of English monarchs, and in this time, Queen Elizabeth’s preferred as it was where her father and mother had fallen in love and gotten married. The redhead was meandering along the streets and alleys, heading back towards a hot food stall the two lovers had arranged to have lunch together at.

Hearing a fanfare of trumpets and voices and marching in the distance, near the main street heading towards Whitehall, as Nicole turned around to head with the other lookie-loos in that direction to see what was going on, a couple of guys walked up to Nicole and pressed something sharp against the redhead’s side.

“Stop walkin’ until everyone passes an’ turns the corner,” someone’s hot breath muttered against Nicole’s ear. The teen got a very unpleasant whiff of body odor and onions. Eww.

They shuffled awkwardly to the side and within seconds the alleyway was clear.

They turned Nicole to face them, and the redhead saw that the pointy thing that had been stuck in her side was a dirty knife. 

“Jeez! That thing’s gross! Did you stain my sweater?!” The teen demanded angrily and grabbed the edge of her sweatshirt and tugged it around to look for the offending stain. “Assholes! Is that regular dirt or oil on that blade?! Will this even come off?!” Nicole chided them furiously as she rubbed at the scuff on her sweater.

They looked at each other baffled and while one, the dumber one Nicole assumed, responded with “Uh, sorry, I dunno,” the smarter one, who was holding the knife elbowed him and spoke over him. “Never mind tha’! Give us all yer money an’ everythin’ in yer pockets an’ in tha’ knapsack.”

Dopey, as she’d mentally named the dim one, lost his confused look and nodded vigorously with an attempt at a menacing look on his face. “Righ’! Wha’ my cousin said!”

Stinky, the smelly one with BO and onion breath, elbowed him again and brandished the knife more openly. “Give it all to us.”

Nodding slowly, she shrugged the backpack off her shoulders and held it out to Dopey, who gleefully reached forward for it, but before he could grab it, Nicole launched it over his head down the alley, almost out to the street. Dopey lunged after it, and Stinky glanced after his cousin and their prize. Taking advantage of his moment of distraction, Nicole stepped forward and grabbed his knife arm, tugging it, and Stinky along with it, down to the side and bent him over as the redhead brought her knee up to his stomach. He grunted out his wind, but Dopey had abandoned the Jansport and was launching himself at Nicole with a look of rage on his face. Years of Krav Maga at the insistence of paranoid parents was finally paying off, as Nicole calmly sidestepped Dopey’s wild lunge and brought her elbow down in the center of his back, solidly on his kidneys. 

Dopey dropped to the ground with a grunt, but Stinky had gotten his smelly breath back. He snarled and swung at Nicole with the knife which she knocked sideways, then shoved him hard into the wall down the alley close to the street and with a dull thud, his head connected with the wall. Dopey had struggled back to his feet and was swinging blindly with his fists, roaring in fury. Nicole tried to dodge, but he connected with a glancing blow to the side of her neck. It didn’t hurt immediately, but she knew that within minutes she would have a whiplash reaction in the muscles. The redhead struck upwards at his nose with her palm and was rewarded with a resounding crunch. He howled and grabbed at his nose, but grabbing his arm, she swung him past her and shoved him in the same direction as his cousin. He tripped over Stinky as right as he was trying to stand up, clutching his forehead, blood dripping through his fingers. Dopey went right over him and landed in the main street, taking Stinky backwards with him. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Nicole barely registered that the noises had gotten louder.

The eighteen year old followed them out into the street and Stinky was the first to recover and come rushing at Nicole again swinging his knife. Standing unmoving, Nicole watched him rush closer, confusion lancing across his face as she didn’t budge, she waited until he had just about reached her, then surprised him by stepping into him, turning and grabbing his knife arm again and using his momentum to flip him over her shoulder where he landed flat on his back in the street with a huff. The redhead felt a tiny sting and some warm wetness on her cheek but Nicole didn’t have a chance to check it out since Dopey was back up and coming at her, throwing some ingenious curses. 

The sounds of the crowd had hushed as Nicole seemingly ran away from Dopey, and behind her she heard him chuckling to himself and calling her a coward. Heading straight for a wall, Nicole jumped up, planting the ball of her left foot on the wall and quickly brought the ball of her right foot a half step above and pushed off flipping backwards over Dopey. The redhead landed behind him, while he hadn’t slowed down enough, being single-mindedly fixated on catching her, but she gave him a shove to help him into the wall. He connected even more solidly with the wall than Stinky had.

She watched him drop outcold to the ground then picked up her backpack, but as she was straightening up, the redhead heard cheers and whistles and clapping. Nicole looked around in surprise and the entire crowd of people lining the streets was cheering Nicole on, with a familiar blonde and blue-eyed girl pushing through the multitude to get to her. Smiling and waving at Chrissy, Nicole also noticed a large retinue of soldiers and horses around a carriage on the street.

As she was looking at the assembled soldiers, Nicole saw a hand stick out of the carriage window and beckon a soldier near. The summoned soldier swung down off his mount and bent over to the window, the curtains of which twitched aside, but the redhead couldn’t see within. A few seconds later he nodded and turned and barked an indistinguishable order at some other guards. 

By this time, Nicole was trying to sidle back into the crowd towards Chrissy, receiving thumps on her back and praises from those in the throng. However, the soldiers he had spoken to walked up and grabbed Nicole’s backpack tugging her backwards. “Halt!” They commanded.

The redhead spluttered and would’ve tripped over herself had the soldiers not been hauling Nicole up as well as back. “Yer coming with us. ‘Er Majesty wants fools an’ acrobats for her feast.”

“I’m not a fool, nor an acrobat!” She hotly protested, but they would have none of it and dragged Nicole back to the group of soldiers who as soon as the teen joined their ranks, began marching again along the street to Whitehall.

Nicole frantically looked around to see if anyone from the crowd would help her or protest on Nicole’s behalf, but everyone who had been so quick to cheer and congratulate her before was fastidiously averting their eyes. The crowd was breaking up, everyone going back to what they’d been doing before, but one person was staring after Nicole and met Nicole’s brown eyes with such horror and sadness in her tear-filled blue ones the redhead’s heart twisted in response. Chrissy.

Nicole stopped walking to try and shout something to her, not even sure what to say, probably words of encouragement that she didn’t even personally feel. But just as she opened her mouth, the redhead was roughly shoved forward by a soldier and Nicole lost sight of Chrissy.

After a few minutes of walking, the teenager remembered the warmth still dripping down her cheek soaking her sweater collar. Nicole touched it and brought her hand to her face and it was covered in blood. _Shit, how badly had Stinky’s knife gotten me?_ _And I’d still never solved the mystery of what was on the blade. Probably infected the cut, whatever it was._ And Nicole was sure her sweater was beyond saving at this point. Suddenly, with the noticing of the cut, the adrenaline drained out of Nicole and she started feeling all of her other bumps and bruises and the expected whiplash on her neck. All at once, the teenager was overcome by everything that had happened to her as the world grew dimmer and Nicole’s legs heavier until she remembered nothing. Blacking out sucks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, guys. I'm having a terrible time trying to get this copied over from Word and maintain the formatting. Let's meet Waverly, shall we?

Nicole woke up slowly. The first thing she was aware of was that it was hot. Second, that she hurt all over. Third, that it was hot. Looking around as slowly as possible to avoid hurting her stiff neck anymore, Nicole was able to catch a glimpse of hanging herbs and a fireplace with a spit. Someone must have noticed Nicole’s struggles because she heard a bossy voice holler out “Dunnae move! Stay still, I’m makin’ ye a warm, revivin’ tea. Milady, make sure he hasnae knocked the compress off his face, please?”

A cool hand reached out and cupped one side of Nicole’s face, and then another pressed down on a wet warmth she hadn’t noticed attached to her cheek before. It stung as it was pressed harder into the wound, and a soft hiss escaped from between the redhead’s dry lips. Cutting through the slight haze of pain and confusion, the most beautiful face the teen had ever seen swam into view; soft hazel eyes framed by impossibly long eyelashes and laugh lines, brow currently furrowed in concern looked down into Nicole’s browwn eyes. As cliché as it sounds, the redhead couldn’t stop herself from asking “Are you an angel?” Nicole swallowed and winced, “Because I’m in too much pain to be in Heaven.”

That delightful face flushed softly and she just shook her head, casting her eyes shyly down as she delicately tucked a lock of honey brown hair that had fallen free of her glittering hair net behind her ear. The moment was interrupted by the same demanding voice butting in and blocking Nicole’s view of beauty personified. As her eyes focused on Bossy’s pinched and ruddy face, the redhead must’ve shown her disappointment in her face because Bossy responded with “Oh, aye, I’m nae as beautiful as Milady here, but I’m gunna do the dirty work of forcin’ this restorative down yer throa’ and yer nae gunna like the taste.”

She followed up her threat with action and pressed a _very_ warm cup of evil smelling contents to Nicole’s cracked lips. The redhead swallowed as much as she could before starting to gag. 

“I guess tha’s enough fer now. Wha’s yer name, laddie?” She inquired as she pressed the wet compress tighter to Nicole’s face.

The redhead tried to respond, but had to cough and clear her throat before she could croak out “Nic. Nic Haught.”

“Well, ‘tis nice tae meet ye, Master Haught.”

Noticing Nicole struggling to sit up, Bossy propped something behind Nicole to help out. It was then that the college student started to take notice of her surroundings, she was in a kitchen with a huge roaring fire, which explained why it was so hot in there, and there were a few other boys and girls doing chores, chopping, sweeping, cleaning dishes, but most were sneaking surreptitious glances in their direction. Bossy was older, with salt and pepper gray hair, so Nicole would’ve guessed late forties, early fifties. She met the redhead’s curious brown gaze, apparently looking for something, but Nicole sincerely doubted they knew to look for unequal pupil dilation in this time. But Bossy must’ve found whatever she was looking for because she nodded curtly and then said, “M’ name’s Gus. I’m the head of the kitchen here at Whitehall. Well I guess since yer lookin’ better and sittin’ up fine, yer healed enough for an audience with Her Majesty.” And she called out to a kitchen scullion to get the guard from outside to escort the redhead to the Queen.

“Her Majesty? Wants to see me?” Nicole mumbled around the cup of evil sauce Gus was trying to get her to finish.

“Tha’s all I’ve been told, lad... Nicole.” She kindly responded, but that was all she got to tell Nicole because four guards walked into the kitchen, which suddenly seemed very crowded. She barked at the guards, “He’s just one lad, what d’ye need four men for?”

“This boy is more dangerous than ‘e looks.” The leader grunted and jerked his chin in the direction of Nicole.

“Bu’ he’s just a wee one. There isnae even whiskers on his chin.” She huffed in protest, but the teenager was already starting to slide herself off the little cot they had her on.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” the redhead told the waiting guards. “And I’m eighteen, almost nineteen. I’m not a child.”

Nicole looked at Gus as she started to peel the compress off her still stinging cheek, but she stopped Nicole with a hand on hers. 

“Bes’ tae leave it on fer now, lad, and draw the bad humours out.”

Nicole couldn’t help smiling at the “humours” comment, but then Nicole brown eyes met Beauty’s deep hazel ones over Gus’s shoulder and suddenly Nicole’s smile was much shyer, as heat flooded her cheeks. _What the hell was this? I don’t get shy around pretty women, I’m was invincible! Must still be feeling off from the fights and whatever the hell they had been doing to me. Probably a fever from the infection. Yeah, that had to be it._ And with that thought Nicole turned to the guards and told them “Lead away.”

“Milady, perhaps you would care to walk in front of us?” The lead guard bowed and gestured at Beauty, to which she said yes and she preceded them out of the kitchen. Not that the redhead minded the view; she was just a little shorter than Nicole’s 5’9” height, tiny in the waist, but her posture would’ve made Nicole’s etiquette teacher tear up in pride: shoulders back, head high, and neck straight.

The group passed through one hallway after another, getting progressively more ornate until they reached some large double doors. They paused outside of them, and whereas for the walk through the hallways, the guards had given Nicole a little room, here they crowded in on her and the lead guard whispered right in Nicole’s face, “No funny business with the Queen, if ye make one move towards her I don’ like, I will have ye brough’ down.”

The redhead cringed and waved her hand in front of her face. “Yeah, whatever. Dude, you need some gum. Here, I have some spearmint in my pocket.” But as soon as she started to reach in her pocket, the guard grabbed Nicole’s hand forcefully.

“I don’ know who yer trying to fool but I know yer no’ admitting to stealing from the kitchens?” He challenged Nicole with a raised brow. “Bes’ keep yer hands where I can see ‘em.”

And with that they pushed open the double doors and the assemblage strode in.

The room must’ve been as big as a high school football field and the ceiling soared far above supported on stone columns. This was without a doubt the throne room, and sure enough, there was the Queen Elizabeth Nicole knew so well from all the paintings of her, complete with shock of red-gold hair, similar to Nicole’s own, and powdered white face, sitting on the throne at the far end. They approached slowly and as the group passed the milling nobles, they fell silent, hushed by their curiosity. 

Stopping in front of the dais, the Queen looked directly at Nicole, and she didn’t need the guards' help to be forced to her knees. The redhead already knew that was the safest place to be in front of a monarch. Beauty had stepped forward and after a curtsey taken a place to the side and slightly behind the Queen.

Someone coughed and Nicole’s attention snapped back to the Queen. Shit. The redhead couldn’t remember her etiquette. You waited for your better to speak first, if she remembered correctly, and she must have been correct because the Queen addressed Nicole.

“That was an impressive show you put on in the street, flipping over and fighting those knaves.” Her voice was softer than Nicole had expected, but the teen knew that as deceptively soft as it sounded, she commanded the most powerful military in the world.

“My parents always wanted me to be able to defend myself, Your Majesty, and as to the flipping, it is a sport called parkour, or freerunning, where I’m from.”

“Well, we were still impressed, and we wish you to be an acrobat at a feast we are throwing in several days.”

 _Oh, crap. I can’t tell the reigning monarch that she’s wrong._ _Definitely not to her face and in front of so many people._ Bowing her head even lower, Nicole responded, “I’m honored by your opinion of my abilities, Your Majesty, but I regret to inform you that I’m not an acrobat. Aside from my passing interest in the sport, much the same as my interest in other sports.”

“You mean to tell us you’re not an acrobat? Even in those outlandish clothes?”

Swallowing loudly, Nicole was sure she was on thin ice. “No, Majesty, I’m not.” It was at this point the redhead decided _fuck it, let’s see if I can pull this off_. “In my land, Your Majesty, I am a royal. I am the Duke of Davis.”

Surprise followed immediately by suspicion rippled across her white face. “We have never heard of Davis. Where does it lie?” 

_About at least three centuries in the future,_ Nicole thought to herself. “Across the sea, in the New World that Spain’s Columbus discovered. Davis is in the far west of those lands.”

All at once a flurry of whispers erupted but died down at a stern look from the Queen.

“This is very interesting, does your land have a lot of wealth?” She inquired with a glint in her eyes.

The redhead chuckled inside, she was prodding, thinking about an alliance. “Yes, Your Majesty, we have quite a lot of gold, so much that it is lying at the bottom of some stream beds, just waiting to be picked up. We are also very advanced with weaponry and machinery. I have come as an emissary seeking a political alliance, however, there was a storm and…” Nicole trailed off trying to think of a believable outcome when the Queen gasped.

“Shipwrecked?! Oh you poor thing,” She interrupted, aggrieved. It seemed she was very interested in an alliance with such a gold-heavy state. “We take it most of your possessions and people were lost as well?” 

“A good many of my possessions, Your Majesty, but I have some gifts that I managed to save. As to my people, however, I believe I am the only one alive.” Nicole’s face fell in feigned sadness. _Most of them wouldn’t even be born for five hundred years._

“And where are these gifts that have not been presented to us as they should have?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I do not know where my satchel that I was carrying is.”

One of the guards sheepishly stepped forward and proffered it. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Yer Majesty, I took it in case ‘e ‘ad something… dangerous… in it.”

“Anything of worth, more like it.” She responded unamused. With an arched eyebrow, she continued, “ Well, pass it to the Duke, then.”

“‘Ere ye are, Yer Grace,” He stated as he handed it to me. “I didn’ take nothin’. Don’ even know wha’ any of tha’ stuff is.” He muttered.

The redhead took her Jansport and opened it up double-checking nonetheless.

“There is nothing amiss, Your Majesty.” Nicole informed her after a thorough inspection.

“Excellent. Then where are our gifts?” She actually rubbed her hands together like a greedy child. That was the most unQueenly the teenagerhad seen her act. She must truly have been hoping for much.

“Well unfortunately gold was too heavy and I was unable to save any, but I do have this bottle of…” The redhead frantically dug around in her bag looking for a “gift” to present to the Queen. “Absinthe for you. It is a rare liquor in my land, very expensive, and it comes from the far east of here so even farther from my home. Be very careful, Your Majesty, it is very strong.”

“Thank you for this… liquor…” She responded as she waved a groom over to accept the gift from me.

“However, I also have…” Nicole dug around again. “This flashlight for you.” The redhead was pretty sure she had another in her emergency kit in the car. “We use flashlights to see in the dark, much like a candle, but it lights our way much brighter and without heat or risk of fire. I used to have one next to my bed so I could secretly read late into the night, rather than sleep as my parents expected me to.” The teenager chuckled fondly at the memory of her parents.

“You can read?” The Queen asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty, and I’m fluent in other languages as well. And you already know I was raised with skill in fighting, not just with my hands but with a blade.” She hadn’t been Fencing Captain and President for nothing and she was always best at Ring of Steel and proficient with a rapier.

“You truly must be a Duke to have received such an education.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Now, this flashlight… I need a dark area to demonstrate it to you. Or even a dim area.”

“Draw the tapestries and curtains across the windows.” She demanded imperiously, and immediately, several windows were covered and it got quite dark inside.

Anxious whispers and exclamations rippled across the assemblage of nobles at being plunged into darkness but Nicole ignored them and addressed the Queen she could just barely make out. “And this, Your Majesty, is what your new flashlight does.” Clicking the button, Nicole turned it on, aiming it at the Queen. At the sudden bright illumination of the Queen, several gasps and shouts of surprise and disbelief were heard, and Nicole saw on the Queen’s own powdered white face that she was stunned. The teen worked the beam of light over the room and aimed it at the high ceilings and far wall. “You see, Your Majesty? It extends much farther and brighter than a candle would and,” Nicole held her hand over the lens, “it gives off little to no heat. But it will run out of power if used too long or too often.” The redhead handed the flashlight to a guard to walk up to the Queen.

Her Majesty tentatively reached out and took it, her trepidation morphing into delight as she aimed it around the room pointing it at courtiers and aiming it up at herself, which threw her heavily powdered visage into even sharper relief. There was no mistaking the look of joy and wonder on her face, however. She pushed the button and they were plunged once more into darkness.

“Uncover the windows.” She demanded and as soon as there was light, everyone began clapping and congratulating the Queen on her gift. She smiled and demurred but quieted everyone down.

“We are much pleased by this gift, Your Grace.” She told Nicole as she passed the flashlight to her groom.

“I am delighted,” the teen bowed deeply, while inside she was breathing a huge sigh of relief.

“However, we must get you some less outlandish clothes. We don’t need a visiting dignitary being mistaken for a fool again.”

Gazing at Beauty, who was deep in conversation with a courtier discussing the flashlight, Nicole tried a little joke. “Whether I’m a fool remains to be seen, Your Majesty, but I am not a professional acrobat.”

The quip earned Nicole a couple of chuckles, but the Queen’s face betrayed no mirth.

“Yes, well we still must attend to the matter of your clothes. The palace tailor will pay you a visit to fit you with some new attire.”

Clearing her throat and steeling her courage, Nicole bowed in thanks but responded, “Your Majesty, I beg your pardon, but all of my wealth is back home,” _In a bank account_ , Nicole continued in her head “And I managed to save very little during the storm, so I cannot afford to pay the tailor for the clothes.”

“Nonsense.” She literally waved the comment away. “The clothes will be a gift from us as a sign of goodwill between our countries. We realize that you would not have much for yourself after the storm and before you can send home for more gold.”

Stunned, Nicole bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You are far too generous.”

Again she waved the comment aside. “Perhaps you could do us the honor of reading aloud a passage from the Bible? We were about to delegate it to one of the nobles here, but we feel you would be best suited for today.”

 _Is this a test to see if I can read and was educated like I boasted? Either way, I’ve got this, but I should watch my step,_ Nicole mused to herself, before bowing and replying, “It would be my honor, Your Majesty.” 

The teen accepted the Bible the Queen held outstretched to her and flipped it open. “We were going to read about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.” Her Majesty informed Nicole, with a slight quirk of her eyebrow.

Nicole couldn’t hold back a cough. If the redhead had ever doubted how important it was that she keep her lesbian ass hidden as a boy, this was an obvious reminder. “Absolutely, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure.” Knowing exactly where it is from a lifetime of people trying to use it as a declaration against gay people, Nicole flipped the Bible open to the appropriate section and began to read aloud. After the first few sentences, the Queen looked satisfied and turned and settled herself back on her throne.

After Nicole had finished describing the destruction of the city, the Queen signaled that she should stop. “You have a wonderful reading voice, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the teenager added a bow to her thanks. “I have always loved reading. I try and read everything I possibly can.”

“In that case, we invite you to take advantage of our library anytime you like.”

“Again, you are too generous, Your Majesty.”

“We like to encourage reading as often as we can. Now, let’s find you a room to retire to. You must still be tired after your earlier bout.”

“A little, Your Majesty.” Nicole touched her compress and winced. It stung like hell.

She snapped at a man who Nicole took to be the palace steward. “Take Duke…” She paused and looked at me. “What’s your full name, Your Grace?”

“Nic Haught, Your Majesty.”

She looked a bit surprised but turned back to address her steward. “Take Duke Nic to an ambassadorial suite and see that the rest of his wounds are attended to, then send in the palace tailor to fit him for clothes.”

The steward bowed to her, then to me, and extended a hand in the direction of the exit. “After you, Your Grace.”

The redhead bowed to Queen Elizabeth with the first three steps backward she took, and with a final glance at Beauty to drink her in one last time, Nicole headed out of the hall at which point the steward passed in front of her and led the way through hallway after hallway; each as opulent as the last. This must be the rich wing of the castle, reserved as living spaces for the court. The entire time, the steward didn’t direct a word at her until they reached a broad wooden door, which he opened and gestured Nicole inside. “Your rooms, Your Grace.” And Nicole stepped into a warm, lush room. It had beautiful burgundy and gold tapestries, plush chairs, and a roaring fire in the fireplace.

The teenager passed through the first anteroom into the actual bedchamber. There was another roaring fire in this fireplace, and two petite serving maids were turning down the sheets in the massive bed. Suddenly bone-weary, Nicole eyed the inviting bed with eagerness. Nicole smiled and winked at the prettiest of the serving maids and she blushed back. The steward must’ve been used to such antics from the men of the court because he just sniffed haughtily and ordered the maids out. The pretty one pulled out the bedwarmer full of coals she had had between the sheets and they both curtseyed on their way out.

“I will send a healer in a little while, and the tailor shortly thereafter,” the steward informed the redhead and then bowed his own way out, shutting the door as he did so.

Stumbling over the bed as her feet dragged, Nicole set her backpack on the floor next to it and slowly sat down on the bed. It felt like the softest, fluffiest cloud ever and the exhausted teen was sorely tempted to lay back and sleep. But first, Nicole opened the backpack and pulled some triple antibiotic ointment out of her First Aid kit. Pulling off the compress, which had dried and was painful to rip from her skin, Nicole was surprised to find her cheek wound barely bled, so it must have done the trick after all. She checked it out in a mirror, and while it was deep and looked gnarly, it would heal fine but definitely leave a scar. Liberally dabbing the antibiotic cream on it, she then put a gauze bandage on the wound. Having taken care of that, the redhead allowed herself to climb into the bed and pulled the sheets up.

As soon as Nicole’s head hit the pillow, she was taken again by the blackness. 

The redhead awoke as a man was leaning over her, peeling the gauze off her cheek. Recoiling away from him, she sat up and pressed the gauze back firmly into her cheek. The man looked startled at her quick movement and sniffed in offense.

“Your Grace, I’m Her Majesty’s private physician. She sent me to check on you. Your wound is oozing some clear liquid and I must look at it.”

“The clear fluid is actually a medicine from my land I put on it. I will be fine thank you.”

“Well if you insist,” He huffed, not at all sure of Nicole’s Western medicine. “Medically, I must at least bleed you.” He continued as he started to pull out a lance and bowl.

“Oh no, I don’t need bleeding. The compress from earlier pulled my bad humours out. Thank you though. I will have to express my gratitude to Her Majesty for taking such good care of me.”

The physician just shook his head and looked over his shoulder. “Inform the Queen that I tried, Milady.” Angrily he threw his implements back into his bag and angrily stormed over to the doorway.

The redhead realized then that Beauty was standing just behind him. She nodded at him as he bowed to her and he left taking his instruments of death with him. She finally spoke to Nicole and her voice was as beautiful and soft as she was.

“You should have let him help you, Your Grace.”

“Uh, I, uh, d-didn’t f-feel I needed his help. I’m f-feeling much better n-now thank you.” _Why the hell am I stammering? I don’t stammer around pretty girls,_ Nicole admonished herself.

“Whatever you say, Lord Davis.” She quirked an eyebrow, but turned and directed a maid to approach Nicole with a tray. “The Queen thought you might be hungry and she sent up some food.”

“Thank you. And again, I will have to thank Her Majesty.” She nodded and turned to go but Nicole blurted out, “Are you one of her Ladies in Waiting?” She turned and faced the redhead and gave a little nod. “Do you take care of everyone injured within the palace? Or just the devilishly handsome ones?” _There I was! Phew!_ Nicole followed it up with her patented charming smile.

Without even cracking a smile, she responded, “Her Majesty ordered me to attend to you. I believe I displeased her earlier somehow, to have punished me so. If that is all, Your Grace?”

Stunned by the serious blow to her ego, Nicole blinked and watched her walk out of the room with the maid who had left Nicole the tray of food. Just before she closed the door, she turned to inform the redhead, “The tailor will be in shortly, so I advise you eat fast.” And with that, the door closed.

“Ouch.” The aggrieved teen muttered and directed her attention to the food. It was good. And another stew. The redhead loved stews, especially with thick gravy and meat and potatoes so she wolfed it down, surprised at her own hunger.

In the middle of licking the bowl, a knock came at the door and Nicole called out an invitation to enter.

A man with a long piece of knotted string hung around his shoulders came in and bowed. “I am the palace tailor, Milord.” He got straight down to business. “If you could strip down to your undergarments and stand on this chair please?”

 _Shit._ “I’m afraid that I was injured more badly in my fight than I thought. I can remove my outer garment, but will not be able to remove the rest.”

“I can assist you, Your Grace.” The tailor answered dubiously.

“No no, it’s a matter of being injured and unable to raise my arms high enough.” _Nailed it._

Nicole slowly pulled off her sweatshirt, and luckily the redhead’s t-shirt was baggy enough that with her tight sports bra, the tailor couldn’t see her breasts.

He looked astonished at Nicole’s clothes and took the sweatshirt from her hands. She gave him a couple of seconds to examine it, then coughed to turn his attention back to her.

“I beg your pardon, Milord, I’ve just never seen a garment such as this. And this flap in the front. What is it for?”

“It’s a pocket. For keeping things in and keeping your hands in for warmth.” He nodded in response, his eyes lighting up at the idea of such a pocket.

“Extraordinary,” he muttered, but remembering his task coughed out, “Yes, thank you, Milord. Let’s get back to business then. Up on that chair please.”

After the teenager had clambered up, he began tying the rope around Nicole and measuring her in every possible way, getting pretty up close and personal. Nicole started to sweat, worrying that any moment he would discover the redhead was not a man. But apparently some angels were watching over her, because he finished up and informed Nicole on his way out the door that she could expect three sets of clothes by the day after next.

After he left she climbed back into bed and fell asleep for a couple more hours.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Champ is a dick.

Several hours later, awaking to a knock on her door, Nicole croaked out, “Come in” and a diminutive, but curvy, maid of sixteen or seventeen, with a pretty face stuck her head around the door.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Your Grace, but it’s almost time for supper and Her Majesty has invited you to dine at the high table with her. Do you need assistance gettin’ dressed?”

“No thank you…” Nicole paused waiting for her to supply her name.

“Grace, Your Grace.” She responded with a shy smile and a curtsey.

The redhead chuckled and Grace blushed to the roots of her golden blonde hair. “Well thank you, Grace, but I can manage just fine.” And with that, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head, it was surprisingly drafty in some of those corridors and it definitely helped hide what little feminine form Nicole did have.

Her blue eyes widened at the ease with which Nicole pulled the sweater on.

“Lead the way, Grace.”

“Yes, Milord.” And she led Nicole back through another maze of corridors. The redhead figured was going to have to learn her way around sooner rather than later. Grace paused outside a door flanked by two liveried men. “This is the main dinin’ hall, Your Grace. Her Majesty is holdin’ a place for you at the high table.” And with a curtsey, she continued down the corridor.

The teenagers looked at the uniformed men and they turned to push open the double doors, announcing to the room inside, “Lord Nic Haught, Duke of Davis.”

A hush fell over the people seated inside and every eye turned to face Nicole and many people stood at their seats to get a better view. Spotting Queen Elizabeth at the high table on a little dais, Nicole headed over, walking the length of the hall as all eyes, and a fair amount of whispers, followed her progress. The redhead bowed deeply to the Queen, and again to the high table in general unsure of the proper etiquette. At a gesture from the Queen, Nicole sat in a vacant seat two down from her on the right. As she took her seat, those standing sat back down and conversations began again. 

“Do you feel better, Duke Nic? Our physician tells us you did not require his services.” The Queen asked Nicole past the taciturn man between them.

The teenager had to lean out past him to respond to her. “Yes, Your Majesty. I feel much better. I was something of a physician in my own land, or at least had training in healing.” _Well, at least as an EMT_ , she thought wryly.

“Truly?” She looked surprised. “That’s useful.” She continued with a thoughtful look.

“It has oft proven so in the past, Your Majesty.” Nicole’s already strained neck was really starting to hurt leaning past this guy. The whiplash was easing up, but the redhead would definitely need some heat on it soon.

Something of the discomfort must have shown on the duke’s face because the Queen snapped at the oblivious man between them, “Oh for Goodness’ sake! Sir Hardy, switch with Lord Davis.”

“Majesty?” He spluttered, startled and not a small amount indignant.

“Switch places with my Lord Davis, we wish to speak with him and you are making it very difficult… sitting there like a clodpole.” She muttered the final words.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Turning red with humiliation, Sir James Hardy grumbled and got up to switch seats with the redhead. Now directly on the Queen’s right, a position of utmost honor, Nicole sat tall in her seat. She looked just past the Queen and saw Beauty sitting on the Queen’s immediate left, but she was pointedly ignoring the duke, her hazel eyes fixed steadfastly on the courtier to her left droning on about the stallion he had just ordered from Arabia. Looks like she was just NOT impressed with Nicole or her charm, not that the redhead had displayed much of it so far.

Nicole focused back on the Queen just in time to hear the end of a question directed at her. “Are you a fan of tournaments, Your Grace?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” At this point servants started circulating and filling water and wine goblets. The teenager nodded in thanks as the one in front of her filled her cup and reached for it to take a sip.

“Excellent. There is one planned in a few days. Would you perform in it?”

Choking on the water she was drinking, Nicole spluttered, “If Your Majesty wishes it.” Nicole used her sleeve to wipe her mouth and dab at her sweater.

The teenager heard Hardy chuckling at her faux pas and saw Beauty smirk into her water goblet, and the redhead flushed in mortification.

“We would like to see you perform in it. In fact, we have decided they are throwing it in your honor, to welcome you and your land’s friendship.”

Inclining her head in acquiescence, Nicole responded, “Then it would be my honor, Your Majesty. But I fear I am still injured from the fight, is there somewhere I can practice until the tournament to regain my strength? I wish to bring the very best of my skill.”

“Absolutely, make full use of the tiltyard for practicing and avail yourself of one of the palace stallions. Keep in mind it will be a joint jousting, sword fighting, and wrestling tournament.”

Beauty was obviously listening in earnest now, having given up the pretense of being interested in the newly acquired horse. Lifting an eyebrow as Nicole boldly met her gaze, the duke responded, “I look forward to winning each of them, Your Majesty.” Beauty scoffed and rolling her eyes, directed her attention back to the courtier on her other side.

The Queen chuckled and clapped at the duke’s surety. “We will see, Davis, we will see.”

At this point the doors banged opened and a parade of servants brought in platter after platter of food, setting them on the high table first, before filling the other tables. The Queen’s plate was loaded by a servant and she took a dainty bite of some roast bird. After she had swallowed, she gestured to the room at large to begin eating. There was a noticeable difference in noise volume from that point on, as people began to stop talking in favor of eating.

Nicole loaded her plate up with two different kinds of unidentifiable roast birds and some pork, followed by a potato and bean combination. A servant refilled Nicole’s wine goblet with a pungent and rather strong wine, but she certainly needed a drink after today, so she downed it, and it was immediately refilled. Proceeding to sip at that one more slowly, she tried her food. It was very tasty, surprisingly, full of flavors and well salted.

Twenty minutes in, however, the Queen started flailing next to the redhead, shoving her chair back and standing, clutching at her throat.

“Your Majesty!” Nicole yelled and leaped up, running behind her to grab her in the Abdominal Thrust maneuver. As soon as she got her arms around the Queen and started thrusting, Hardy, asshat that he is, started yelling that the duke was assaulting Her Majesty and several men rushed at Nicole to pull her away.

“Stop! She’s choking! I need to save her!” The former medical professional yelled but they weren’t listening to her, pulling Nicole away from the Queen. The redhead jabbed her elbow in the stomach of the man behind her and stomped on his foot, then flipped him over her shoulder as she had with Stinky, straight onto Hardy, taking them both down. A punch to the face of the guy holding Nicole’s arm and she was free. Nicole grabbed the Queen again and resumed thrusting. The men were struggling to their feet and coming back at the teenager by the fourth thrust, but on the fifth, the bit of meat the Queen had been choking on flew out of her mouth and hit a disheveled and livid Hardy straight in the face. Ten points!

The Queen was coughing and gasping by now and the redhead sat her carefully back down in her seat and waved everyone off to give her space, that is until Hardy’s flunkies grabbed Nicole again and forced her onto her knees with her arms pinned painfully behind her back.

Nicole’s hurt neck protested the angle, but she just had to look up and watch the Queen to make sure she was okay. Her breathing was slowing and Beauty was offering her water to drink with a look of deep concern on her face. She glanced up for a moment and met Nicole’s eyes with her own, flecks of green whirling in the hazel, and for once the redhead didn’t see derision there. The Queen accepted the cup and drank deeply, draining it. A few deep breaths later, she turned to look at Nicole on her knees and the men holding the duke down. She was red and I’m not entirely sure it was from the choking, because in a very quiet but stern voice, she croaked out, “Just what do you think you are doing with Lord Davis?” 

“He was assaulting you, Your Majesty.” Hardy declared smugly and kicked Nicole smartly in the side, causing her to wheeze.

“Can you not see, you oaf, that he just saved our life?!” She screamed the last words at him and followed it up with a smack to his face from her heavily beringed hands. He staggered and clutched his cheek. “On your knees! And the rest of you, release the duke!”

Immediately released, Nicole rose to her feet while Hardy dropped to his knees. “But he attacked us as well when we tried to defend you from his onslaught!” Hardy whined petulantly.

“He defended himself, commendably we might add, although we expect that we should not be surprised when it comes to Lord Davis’ combat skills. You almost kept him from saving our life, and would have caused the death of your Queen. Leave this hall now! All of you! Supper is over! Hardy, we shall find a punishment for you later.”

Hardy paled, the red mark across his face now in stark contrast.

The Queen turned to Nicole and addressed her quietly. “Duke Nic, we cannot thank you enough for saving our life. You and the land of Davis have already proven to be true and welcome friends. However can they repay you?”

Bowing deeply, the redhead responded, “Your Majesty, I am honored and merely did my duty.” Nicole glanced past her at Beauty who was still eyeing the Queen with concern. “The only thing I would beg of you is the name of the young lady behind you, who took such excellent care of me while I was injured.” Beauty snapped her eyes up to meet Nicole’s brown gaze with a look the redhead couldn’t read.

Her Majesty actually smiled and without even turning, called out, “Step forward, my dear.” And Beauty, flashing Nicole a suspicious and confused look, stepped forward and curtseyed.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” she asked.

“Duke Davis just thanked us for your services and we thought you would like to thank him for saving the life of your most beloved Queen.”

Beauty curtseyed deeply again, this time to Nicole and looking at the floor, said, “I am forever in your debt for saving the life of my Queen, Your Grace.”

The redhead bowed back and responded with, “It was my duty and my pleasure.” 

The Queen looked between the two and with a smirk stated, “Duke Davis, this is our Maid of Honour, the highest among our ladies in waiting, Lady Waverly Earp, Countess of Devonshire.”

Waverly met Nicole’s eyes and the redhead smiled and bowed again, reaching out for her hand, taking just a moment to admire her long thin fingers and immaculate cuticles and nails. “My most heartfelt thanks, Lady Waverly, and to you as well, Your Majesty, for taking such good care of me while I was incapacitated.” Nicole pressed her lips lightly to Waverly’s knuckles marveling over how soft her hands were.

“As the beginning of the repayment of our debt, my Lord Davis, would you attend us in our chambers after you have had a moment to freshen up? We would speak more of your home and joining our lands in friendship.”

“Absolutely, Your Majesty.” The duke tore her eyes away from Beauty, no, Waverly’s, eyes to look at the Queen as she responded.

“Excellent, they can finish supper there, and indulge in some sweetmeats.” She turned and directed the last comment over her shoulder as she swept towards the exit.

Waverly spent a moment more looking at the duke contemplatively, although Nicole wasn’t sure what she was looking for in her eyes, before turning to follow Her Majesty towards the exit. The redhead bowed to their backs, just for good measure.

The Queen paused just before heading out the door, “Davis, this groom is a loan to you, that is unless you should wish to keep him. His name is James.” And the young, freckle-faced, auburn-headed man with brown eyes she directed over to Nicole hurried to her side.

He must’ve been fifteen or sixteen, but he stood at perfect attention at the duke’s side. “You are most generous, Your Majesty.” But she had already headed out. “Well, James,” Nicole looked at him. “Can you show me to my rooms? I’m afraid I still can’t find my way through that maze. And what do I have to do to get a bath around here?”

He smiled at Nicole and nodded, then headed for the exit, directing one of the scullion maids cleaning up, to fetch the duke hot water for a bath.

Back through the maze of hallways, by the time they reached Nicole’s inner chamber, there was a big wooden tub half filled with steaming water by two maids and Grace.

“Thank you, James, Grace, ladies.” Nicole told them all. Grace beamed at the redhead but the other two looked shocked. The women all shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind them, but James stayed and busied himself setting out a sheet as a towel and some soap. Once he had finished, he turned to face her.

“Do you need assistance undressing, Your Grace?” He asked confusion written across his face at finding Nicole still dressed.

“No thank you, James, I’d prefer to bathe alone.”

“But, Your Grace…” James was flustered.

“James, you can wait outside in my outer chambers until I’m done. I’ll call for you.” The duke told him sternly.

“Yes, Your Grace.” He said grudgingly and bowed his way out of the door.

As soon as it was shut, Nicole locked it behind him. The redhead was definitely looking forward to this bath, despite the scald-potential of the water. She stripped off her now beyond-saving sweatshirt and her t-shirt, then pulled off the sports bra and her shoes. Socks, pants, and underwear later, and Nicole was slipping slowly into the hot water. Immediately, she felt much better, groaning at her muscles unknotting after the brutal day. She sat soaking for a few minutes and then began to rub the provided soap into her skin; it didn’t smell very good, but it did the job of cleaning off the sweat and grime of the day. Dunking her head backwards into the water, she then rubbed it liberally into her scalp, and rinsed it out. Finally, there was the matter of her face, she knew she had to be careful not to ruin her bandage, but managed to get herself clean enough and climbed out, wrapping herself in the sheet to dry off, and rubbing her hair vigorously. 

Redressing in her spare underclothes, and her gross pants and sweater, she made a mental note to go back to her car for spares, and tried finger-combing her damp copper hair in the burnished silver of her mirror… _Meh, it’ll have to do_ , she thought to herself.

As she stepped outside, James jumped to attention and stated that he was ready to escort her to the Queen's apartments.

They walked through a maze of corridors, some stone, some woodpaneled, all of them tapestried, and the redhead was thoroughly turned around, but James seemed to know where he was going. Soon enough the two of them were standing outside some magnificent doors with guards standing at attention on either side. The one on the right knocked loudly on the doors and opened them, announcing, “Lord Davis to see the Queen.”

Immediately the doors opened wider and Nicole was ushered inside a warm, almost stuffy sitting room with a roaring fire and several plush chairs. There were several women putting aside their stitching and getting ready to head to their own apartments. The duke bowed to the room at large and noticed the Queen in the largest chair nearest the fire, with Waverly standing at her side. Walking over and kneeling with her head bowed, Nicole said, “Your Majesty, I thank you for your most gracious invitation.”

“Rise, Duke Davis,” she told her, and as the redhead rose to her feet, noticing her damp hair she continued in consternation, “Whyever have you taken a bath? It is not near a holiday.”

“Where I come from, Majesty, it is common practice to bathe once or even twice a day. We have found that it is conducive to health and living longer.”

She had a slight look of horror, and Nicole was sure she saw her cringe, but she just shook her head and looked the other way. “You of course remember, Lady Earp?” She gestured towards Waverly who gave Nicole the merest of nods. “And our other ladies are just leaving, allowing us privacy.” And at her stern admonition, all of the ladies curtseyed and left the room.

Suddenly they were alone and the Queen gestured towards a chair. “Have a seat, my Lord Nic. We wish to hear more of your land.”

As the duke got settled, Waverly set a small goblet in front of the redhead and set one in front of the Queen and another in front of what Nicole presumed would be her seat, and sure enough she sat in it. Looking back at Her Majesty, Nicole found her examining the bottle of Absinthe she had given her.

“This sealant is so strange,” she mused. “How do you open it? Is the metal beaten around the glass bottle? But then how is the glass not broken?”

“Allow me to open it for you, Your Majesty.” Nicole reached forward and took the proffered bottle and slowly unscrewed the cap. “You see, Your Majesty, the glass is formed into a spiral and the inside of this metal cap is as well. When you put them against each other and turn, they screw into each other allowing you to open and close the bottle as many times as you like.” At which point the redhead passed the open bottle back to her and she examined the bottle and the cap threads.

“Your Majesty, you must allow me to try that first to determine whether it has been poisoned or not.” Waverly declared, at which Nicole flushed angrily.

“I would never poison, Her Majesty, much less after having saved her from choking.” The duke declared, glaring angrily at Waverly who huffed at her. “To prove it, I’ll drink first.”

Her Majesty nodded in agreement and chastened, Waverly silently poured a small measure in Nicole’s glass.

“Your Majesty, I must in good faith warn you about this drink. This is a very, _very_ strong alcohol, stronger than anything you will have ever tried. In my land, they call it ‘The Green Fairy’ because it is rumored that if you drink enough you will see a green fairy, not that I’ve ever seen it, despite my valiant efforts.” She chuckled at her own admission.

The Queen laughed aloud, “You would be surprised what we can handle, young Duke Davis.”

“Then to Your Majesty’s health.” The duke toasted and knocked back her shot of Absinthe, grimacing at the strength. “Whew!” Nicole coughed.

Waverly smirked at the redhead’s response, while the Queen laughed out loud. Waverly poured a rather large amount into the Queen’s glass and her own, and proceeded to pour more into Nicole’s empty glass.

“That is rather a lot of it, be very wary.” The redhead tried to warn them, but the Queen had already knocked hers back and proceeded to cough. For a middle aged woman, Nicole was quite impressed.

 _I’m going to be beheaded, but at least I can brag in the afterlife that I did shots with the Queen of England._ Nicole thought to herself.

After the Queen was done coughing and spluttering, she croaked, “It is _very_ strong, but it tastes like licorice.”

The Queen’s statement gave Waverly the courage to try her own, which she sipped rather than knocking back.

Nicole, of course, knocked hers back and noticed the Queen already refilling her goblet, with a smaller measure, however, and passed the redhead the bottle to refill hers.

After the Queen and Waverly had each taken three or four shots and Nicole was on her fifth or sixth, they started to ask more questions about Davis, and the technological advancements that were such miracles to them, such as threaded bottles and caps, as well as flashlights, etc.

But the more they drank and spoke, the more that the conversation strayed from talk of politics and technology and alliances, to random talk ranging from life stories to preferences.

The college student was sufficiently drunk enough to suggest playing a drinking game.

“What are drinking games?” Waverly asked her.

“They are games played while people are drinking alcohol, oftentimes encouraging them to drink more.”

“We demand we play one! What did you have in mind, Nic?” The Queen asked, or rather, slurred at the redhead.

Smirking at Waverly, the redhead said, “Well, there’s strip poker, but we can hardly play that…”

“What is that?” The Queen demanded followed by a hiccup.

“Well it is a card game, called poker, with the twist that every hand one loses, one has to remove an article of clothing.”

“Sounds scandalous! And people play it in your land?”

“Well, Your Majesty, where I come from, people are much more open about their sexuality and wear slightly more revealing clothes and are not as touchy about nudity or sleeping with many people every night, or even many people at once.”

Waverly and Her Majesty had scandalized looks on their faces, Waverly with bright spots of red high on her cheeks, but the Queen broke out laughing, ruddy in her cheeks, now bare of their white paint, although whether from drink or scandal Nicole wasn’t sure.

“Again, we can hardly play that, but there is Never Ever Have I Ever, which is probably easier for us to play right now.”

“Then we shall play this ‘Never Ever Have I Ever’ that you speak of.” She declared imperiously, again with another hiccup.

“Well, you start by putting up all ten of your fingers as such,” the teenager demonstrated by splaying her hands and fingers wide. “And everyone gets a turn saying something that they have never done, such as ‘Never ever have I ever… eaten swan’ and everyone who has done that puts down one finger. This continues until someone has run out of fingers.”

The Queen and Waverly put down a finger each, but, laughing, Nicole corrected them that they hadn’t started yet. “I insist I go first,” The Queen declared regally. “Never ever have I ever… played stickball.” Her ensuing giggle was interrupted by a hiccup.

Figuring stickball was close enough to baseball, she put a finger down.

“Now me,” Waverly declared. “Never ever have I ever…used a sword.”

Her Majesty and Nicole each put a finger down.

“Never ever have I ever…” the redhead paused thinking, _what can I even say?_ “eaten quail.”

The Queen and Waverly each put a finger down. This game continued until surprisingly enough Her Majesty was out first, however, she looked very entertained and went back to drinking as she watched Waverly and Nicole battle it out, with only a finger each left.

Finally, pink in the face, Waverly said “Never ever have I ever… kissed anyone!” To which the duke groaned and put down her last finger.

Waverly and Her Majesty cheered for her success and as the redhead took another shot of Absinthe, she noticed Waverly looking at her with annoyance.

“Well we haven’t seen any green fairies, but we have very much enjoyed tonight. Thank you, Duke Davis.” The Queen told her. “However, judging by the bottle being nearly empty, and the spinning that is going on in our head, we rather think it is time for bed.”

“I agree wholeheartedly, Your Majesty.” The redhead said as she stood up and bowed deeply, almost losing her balance at that.

“I will leave you as well, Your Majesty, and send in some of your ladies to get you ready for bed.” Waverly stood up and curtseyed, but actually lost her balance and started to fall over, but the teenager darted forward and caught her, setting her back on her feet. It must have lasted half a second, but Nicole had time to smell the faint lavender of her honey brown hair and feel the warmth of her neck against the redhead’s cheek.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Waverly thanked the duke as she smoothed down her dress and proceeded to walk unsteadily towards the door.

“My Lord Nic, make sure that Lady Devonshire gets safely back to her rooms before retiring to bed for the night?” Her Majesty asked the redhead with a twinkle in her eye.

Waverly spluttered, but accepted it with another, much shallower and safer curtsey. Nicole walked over and she put her hand on the redhead’s outstretched arm, resting a considerable amount of her weight on it. They walked outside and James was sitting on the hallway floor but jumped to attention when he saw Nicole and the Lady Waverly.

“James, please lead the way to Lady Waverly’s apartments, I am escorting her to make sure she gets there safely.”

James nodded and headed off down a corridor, the teenager following him, but only the most minimal part of her brain was dedicated towards following him and keeping her balance. The majority of it was contemplating Waverly, all the anger and frustration, disgust and contempt that she had shown Nicole so far, and how she could never seem to be charming enough for once in her life. She was feeling the warmth radiating from the softness that was her hand on the teenager’s arm, the smell of lavender faintly wafting off her, noticing the tiny wisps of sandy brown hair that had escaped their pins and were floating loose.

Sadly enough they soon reached what Nicole took to be the doors to Waverly’s apartments because James opened them then went to stand a distance down the corridor, giving them the privacy he presumed they wanted.

“Well thank you very much, my Lord Nic, for seeing me safely here. I also, surprisingly, enjoyed tonight.” She begrudgingly added the last sentence.

“You are very welcome, my Lady Waverly,” The redhead replied, then took her hand, and bowed over it, pressing her lips lightly to her knuckles. “I agree that surprisingly enough, I enjoyed tonight as well.” 

She took her hand back and lightly ran her other thumb over the knuckles that Nicole had kissed. The redhead figured she had had too much to drink, because she was sure that Waverly’s eyes had gone to her lips for just a second, but then she took half a step forward and leaned into the tall redhead, pressing her lips against Nicole’s. Shocked, it took Nicole a second to react, but then she leaned into her as well, putting one hand on her cheek and the other firmly on her lower back to press Waverly into her. Waverly melted into the kiss for a couple seconds, but then she abruptly pushed Nicole away and soundly slapped her, then stormed into her rooms, slamming the door. The redhead put a hand on her stinging cheek, but couldn’t help the broad grin on her face, as she turned and saw James hiding his smirk as he led the duke back to her rooms. _Well I guess she can’t use “Never ever have I ever kissed anyone” against me again._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I never quite realized how much people meant it when they stated comments are life-giving. The comments I've received so far have had me literally dancing across the house, giggling in the butchest of ways, and just going about my day with a massive grin as I remember the kind things I've read in the comments. I would like to apologize to every creator whose content I've ever read and didn't leave a comment on and I promise I will be better. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, and I hope you like this chapter!

The next morning Nicole woke with cotton-mouth, but no other signs of last night’s drinking. Swishing her mouth at the wash basin, the redhead started brushing her teeth, but before she could spit, Grace knocked and walked in with Nicole’s breakfast on a tray, followed by another maid carrying a pile of clothes.

“Good mornin’, Your Grace. I have your brea-“ she interrupted herself with a scream and dropped the duke’s breakfast and rushed towards Nicole screaming, as the other maid just stared openmouthed and wide-eyed in shock. “Poison! The duke’s been poisoned!”

Nicole stood there, brown eyes wide, with her mouth hanging open and toothpaste foam all around her mouth in shock at Grace’s screams. Finally it hit the redhead and she swished then spit in the washbasin so her mouth was free to calm Grace down.

“Grace, no, no, no, calm down! Stop screaming! I’m fine! Look I’m not poisoned!”

The teen’s words were just starting to have an effect and Grace stopped screaming, staring at Nicole agape with tear tracks running down her face, just as the doors burst open again and in rushed Waverly.

“I heard your screams! The duke’s been poisoned?!” She yelled, but froze looking at Nicole and the flecks of toothpaste foam still on the redhead’s lips, followed promptly by her own yell for “Help! The duke’s been poisoned!”

Nicole stepped towards her and started explaining, “Waverly, calm down! I’m not poisoned! Look!” and facing Grace and Waverly, wiped her mouth clean of the toothpaste. “See? Where I come from we brush our teeth with this,” and the redhead held out the toothbrush and toothpaste “and it cleans our mouth better than twigs, also leaving it with a pleasant mint taste. See?” And she blew lightly in their disbelieving faces.

“Well, that does smell pleasant…” Waverly said suspiciously, her hazel eyes still whirling in concern.

Grace seemed to believe her faster than Waverly because she began apologizing for ruining the duke’s breakfast and saying she would get Nicole some more from the kitchen.

“No that’s fine, Grace, I’m not hungry, but I appreciate your swift actions. Had I actually been poisoned, you would quite possibly have saved my life.” Nicole smiled to try and make her feel better. She blushed bashfully and with a curtsey left with the ruined breakfast. The other maid set down the pile of clothes in her arms, stating, “Milord, the tailor has sent one shirt and doublet. He says he will send more as he finishes them.” With a curtsey she left the room as well.

“Your country has strange customs,” Waverly said, then sniffed and turned towards the door. “If you are fine then I must continue on my way to the stables, the Queen is going riding today, but wanted to see you at the training field before she leaves.”

Perplexed at Waverly’s lack of acknowledgment regarding the events of last night, Nicole accompanied her as she huffed out the door, giving Grace another smile as they strode past her out to the training field. It seems Nicole’s first day of training for the tournament was to start, and she had a lot riding on her doing well.

Once outside, the duke saw many of the lords loitering around putting on armor with their squires’ help, or already going through motions with swords, battle axes, maces, etc. She also saw the Queen in the viewing station, so Nicole walked over and bowed to her, “Your Majesty, Lady Waverly mentioned you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Davis, we wanted to give you our own gift of friendship.” She gestured to a little man with bulging arm muscles near her. “This is the royal armorer, and he is going to take your measurements to fashion you a suit of armor as well as a blade for the tournament since we are sure yours went down in the shipwreck.” The little man bowed to the duke and the redhead inclined her head towards him.

“You are most gracious, Your Majesty, and I am very appreciative.”

“You may also have your pick of the horses of the royal stables, aside from my own, any charger you choose is yours.”

“Again, I am speechless and in your debt, Majesty. I shall not forget this.”

“In the meantime, while your armor and sword are being fashioned, you shall have to borrow someone’s for the purpose of practicing for the tournament,” At this she looked over Nicole’s shoulder at the assembled lords. “Who shall lend Duke Davis their sword and horse for the day?”

From behind Nicole she heard a snide voice proclaim, “He may borrow mine! But my horse is rather spirited, I’m not sure Duke Davis can handle him.”

The tall redhead turned and it was Sir James Hardy with a sneer and malicious glint in his eye. With a bow, Nicole said, “Thank you, Sir Hardy, I am quite sure that I will be able to handle myself.”

The Queen just nodded and waved them all back to their business.

Hardy’s squire brought the horse over to the duke, and he was admittedly jumpy, but after a few moments stroking his nose, Nicole easily swung herself up without any assistance, to Sir James’s astonished glance. His horse skittered sideways, but a hush and brush of his neck calmed him. A lance was handed up to Nicole who took it and thought, _God these are heavy!_ and the duke was directed to line up and aim for the quintain. The lance weighed heavy and unwieldy in Nicole’s hand, straining her arm and shoulder, but she lined up and kicked the horse down the track with the sweat starting to drip into her eyes, making it hard to focus on the little circle she was aiming for. 

Her first pass missed, much to Hardy’s amusement, the redhead took from his bark of laughter, but she just wheeled the horse around and lined him back up. This time Nicole managed to couch the lance against her side and, thus steadied, struck the circle solidly, causing the arm to spin. Nicole did this several more times, until her arm and neck was sore from holding the lance. She hadn’t heard Hardy laugh in a while, so she assumed she had impressed him slightly or at the very least shut him the hell up. Nicole hopped off his horse and passed the reins back to his squire to rub him down.

“Thank you very much, Sir Hardy. I am glad I got the practice in, it seems that I am rusty after the shipwreck.”

Next on her mental list of skills to practice was with a sword.

She took the proffered sword from Hardy's squire and swung it a couple of times to test the balance. Hardy was taller than Nicole by several inches and was quite a bit broader in the shoulder, so his sword was longer and not balanced quite right for Nicole’s shorter, lither stature. What would have been a single-handed sword for him was a hand-and-a-half for her. But a couple of spins and swings, and the redhead felt she had the measure of it. 

Nicole stepped towards the wooden practice pole and took a medium strength swing at it. The sword bit deeply into the wood; she felt the shock of it up her arm, jarring her teeth together. With a grunt she pulled the sword free and rubbed the lingering shock tingles from her arm. Widening her stance, she swung the sword two-handed this time, grinning as it bit deeper, and she was better prepared for the shock up her arms. She pulled the sword free again and swung several more times at different angles, getting a better feel for the sword.

Stepping away from the wooden pole, a young knight whose name Nicole hadn't learned stepped up to spar with her. The young duke saw Hardy's smug smile out of the corner of her eye as she was dressing in the thick woolen padding that would protect her from serious injury during the spar. _So he expects to see me have my ass handed to me. Boy is he in for a surprise_ , she chuckled to herself _._ As she finished, she directed her attention back to the knight who saluted Nicole with his blade, a salute which she returned and dropped into her stance. He was closer to the redhead’s height and size than Hardy, and she could see the tip of his sword dipping slightly. It wasn't balanced properly for him either, and he seemed slightly winded already, both of which should even things out slightly.

He took a step and a light swing towards her, which she deflected as lightly as possible. The resultant clang vibrated the sword up Nicole’s arm and jarred her teeth again. Widening her stance again, she gripped the sword more firmly with two hands. _This is so much heavier than a rapier_ , Nicole had to remind herself. The woolen padding would not protect her from broken bones. He and Nicole circled each other and he took a couple more practice swings at Nicole to test her defense, all of which she deflected lightly and slowly, wanting to delay him from figuring out her strengths and weaknesses for as long as possible.

The redhead decided to take a swing at his left side. It took him a fraction of a second longer than she expected to get his sword across and deflect her swing. So there was a good chance that that was his weak side. She swung a few more times at different parts of him, before trying that side again. Sure enough he took a little too long to parry Nicole’s swing. Perfect. It was then that the match began in earnest. He took a hard fast swing at the redhead’s right side and she deflected in earnest, but he followed up with a sharp jab to her midriff. She deflected that jab hard to her left, swinging his blade hard right, leaving him completely open for a moment. The teenager took that moment to swing hard at his left side, and the flat of her blade made contact with his side amidst cheers from the crowd. He grunted in pain and put his hand to his side. His eyes narrowed and she could read in his eyes that he was going to take another hard swing at her, which he did and when deflected followed up with another stab at Nicole’s midriff. This time she brought her blade down hard on his sword and it slipped from his tired fingers to land in a puff of dust in the dirt. The redhead brought her blade up amidst louder cheers and whistles to rest just before his throat. He put two fingers up in surrender and Nicole stepped away from him smiling in victory. The look on Hardy’s face was one she would cherish forever.

Bowing to her opponent, as he bowed back, she passed the sword back to Hardy's squire and walked over to the Queen. Nicole tried not to look at Waverly, but instead met the Queen's smiling eyes and bowed deeply to her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for giving me this opportunity. I was definitely in need of practice."

"Well done, Duke Nic. If you feel that your practice is done for today, you can see our armorer and he will get your measure for a blade and armor."

Bowing deeply again, she responded, "Thank you once again, Your Majesty. You are most gracious."

Starting across the field towards the blacksmith's forge, the tall redhead passed by one of the gates and peering through the bars was a familiar blonde. Chrissy’s face lit up as her blue eyes met Nicole’s and hollered in delight, “Nic!”

"Chrissy!" Nicole exclaimed in delight and hurried over to her.

She pressed her face tightly against the bars and passed her fingers as far through them as she could. The teen entwined her fingers with hers, kissing them lightly, as she spoke quietly. "Chrissy, how are you?"

"I'm fine now, Nic. I was so worried about you. I was hoping I would see you, but I thought it a far chance." She glanced down at Nicole’s clothes. "You look very fine, I am glad to know that you have been accepted and treated well." The redhead’s heart tore at her sad smile and the shimmer in her blue eyes.

"Chrissy..." The redhead began sadly, but was interrupted by a voice from behind her calling out, "Duke Davis! Nic!"

The duke turned and it was Waverly striding down the green towards her, but she slowed her pace, brow furrowing and her narrowed hazel eyes darting between the redhead and the blonde, when she saw Nicole engaged in conversation with a beautiful blonde woman.

"She is absolutely gorgeous." Chrissy murmured. "I can see why you haven't been back to visit me."

"Chrissy, that's not fair." Even Nicole heard the pain in her voice as it cracked.

"No, Nic, I understand. Truly I do. You are part of a different world now. But we had fun, didn't we? It wasn't just me?" She asked, her blue eyes wide with unshed tears.

"No, Chrissy, of course it wasn't just you. You are beautiful, and so sweet, and so loving, and you kept me sane and happy in the most confusing and tumultuous time of my life. But I must go now." The redhead smiled sadly at her, and leaned forward to kiss the blonde’s soft lips through the bars. "Take care, Chrissy, and thank you for everything. I promise I’ll be by to visit when I can."

She smiled at the redhead, nodding as a tear slipped down her cheek, and with a final soft kiss, the redhead’s heart cracked as she turned around and walked away from Chrissy and back up to the woman who Nicole was beginning to understand truly held her heart despite her cold and indifferent manner.

"That seemed a very... heartfelt... conversation. She was very pretty, who was she?" Waverly asked the duke with what she thought was a slight amount of suspicion.

"That was Chrissy, an ex-lover, and we shared a rather painful goodbye, so I would appreciate you dropping the scorn, Lady Waverly." The redhead replied rather sharply, looking up in time to see a look of anger, _and was that jealousy?,_ pass across her face, settling on shock at Nicole’s attitude towards her.

"I thought I would walk with you to the blacksmith's so that we could clear up any confusion about last night." She huffed.

"Thank you, although as to last night, there is no confusion, my Lady. I apologize for imposing myself on you, and would think you the most gracious of ladies if you would accept my apology."

Waverly looked rather taken aback, hazel eyes wide, but then responded with, "Of course. You are forgiven. Just make sure not to overstep again." She sniffed imperiously and lifted an eyebrow in reproach.

Laughing sharply in derision, Nicole walked on without her towards the blacksmith's. Waverly hurried to fall into step with the tall redhead’s long strides and they walked in silence to the armorer's front door. Upon knocking, the duke was greeted by the small man with bulging muscles from before who bowed and ushered them indoors. It was very warm inside and Nicole gave the only seat to Waverly as propriety demanded.

The armorer faced Nicole and eyed the tall duke for a moment, then said, "I am Thomas, and Her Majesty has commissioned a sword and armor for you. I watched you in the spar fight. It seemed like Sir Hardy’s sword was rather too long for you, am I right?" Nodding her agreement, Thomas continued, "I thought so. Take up some of these swords until one feels well-balanced, I take it you would prefer a hand-and-a-half sword?"

"Yes, that is my preference." The redhead replied as she headed over to the rack of swords to practice swinging a couple. It took Nicole 18 swords before she found one whose balance and length she liked, although it was a single-handed sword. The duke took it over to Thomas and handed it hilt first to him. He nodded and grunted once.

"I agree, this is probably the best for you. I will craft you one that is the same length and balance, but a hand-and-a-half. Now onto measuring you for your armor."

"I don't need to strip down for this, do I?" The teen asked and glanced at Waverly who had the grace to blush and look away.

"No, Your Grace. The clothes you are wearing will be similar to the padding you will wear underneath your armor, so I have to take measurements allowing for that." And he proceeded to wrap and rewrap a length of knotted string around every inch of the tall redhead.

After 20 minutes, he grunted and directed Waverly and Nicole out with a bow. Before the door had even shut, Nicole could hear him hollering at his apprentices to "get off their lazy asses because there was work to be done!"

Waverly and Nicole glanced at each other and laughed out loud, the awkward air around them broken, then began walking up towards the castle. Nicole extended her arm, which Waverly took without hesitation.

The smile slipped off the duke’s face, however, as she realized that it had been several days since she had seen her family, and there seemed little chance of getting back to them anytime soon.

Waverly must have noticed the redhead’s change in emotion because she asked her, "What is the matter, Your Grace?"

"I just miss my family, and am wondering when I will see them again."

"I remember when I was first sent to court, I missed my family terribly." With that she squeezed Nicole’s arm in sympathy, just as they were passing through the front doors into the castle. Stopping, Nicole took Waverly’s hand between hers and bowing over it, lightly kissed her knuckles, before striding off to see if she could find her rooms to bathe and change, then the library in the hopes of researching a way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely broke my own heart having to break Chrissy's.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you all! Also, come find me on Tumblr, Carissa190, if you're so inclined!

After bathing the sweat and dust of practice off and changing into her new longsleeved, collared undershirt and heavy black doublet, Nicole set off for the library which she located after only a few wrong turns and many sets of directions from servants. One of the places that the young duke always felt instantly at home was in libraries or bookstores, surrounded by books and the resultant hush that accompanies them. Breathing deeply of the smells of old paper and dust while her eyes adjusted to the dimness within, she walked slowly along the rows, letting her eyes glance along the titles, looking for any that had "Magic" in their titles. Somewhere within these thousands of tomes, there must be a book that could tell Nicole how to get home. She couldn't accept the idea that there wasn't and that she might never see her parents again.

Grabbing several that looked promising, she sat down at a table to see if they were indeed helpful to her plight. Hours must have passed before she heard Waverly's soft voice asking someone where Lord Nic, the Duke of Davis, was. She apparently was given the proper directions to find Nicole because she turned the corner, just as Nicole was hurriedly using her phone to snap a picture of a passage that she’d come across that seemed relevant.

"My Lady Waverly," Nicole said and stood up to greet her, setting her phone down. "What can I help you with?"

"It is time for supper." She replied while suspiciously eyeing the phone and piles of books surrounding the redhead. “What was that you just set down?”

Blushing, Nicole picked up her phone and showed it to the apprehensive brunette. “It’s called a phone. It is a… multifunctional tool in my world, but I was using it to take a picture of something.” Waverly just squinted and raised an eyebrow at “picture” so the redhead continued, “A picture is like a portrait, but not painted, and instant.”

At Nicole’s description, which seemed farfetched to the brunette, heat rose in her cheeks at being played for a fool and her plump pink lips parted and green eyes widened as she geared up to chastise the redhead for trying to pull one over on her. Nicole saw the spark of annoyance in her eyes and the set of her mouth, so she quickly raised her phone and snapped a flash photo of the brunette. She glanced down to check it wasn’t blurry, taking a moment to admire the flush in her cheeks and green fire in her eyes, beautiful mouth pursed, forever immortalized and captured in her phone. _Technology really is a wonder that is taken for granted in the future,_ Nicole mused before the countess snapped her out of her thoughts with a high pitched squeak asking what that was. Blinking, she looked up and met the brunette’s wide-eyed gaze, so she turned the phone around to show her the picture of her on the screen. “This is a picture.” The brunette’s jaw dropped and she gasped as she marveled at the clarity of the photo of herself, captured in a moment rather than hours of painful and boring posing for a painter.

“But surely this is witchcraft! It has captured my soul!” Waverly exclaimed as she covered her mouth in horror and backpedaled away from the phone, clasping the cross on her necklace as she mumbled a prayer.

“No no!” Nicole exclaimed, taking a step towards her, hand outstretched in a placating manner. “It is only technology, no more magic than the flashlight I gifted Her Majesty. I keep the phone a secret for now, because I’m afraid of exactly this. Of people thinking it is magic, when it is only science. In my land every person has one of these, and we carry it on our persons at all times. We use it for a multitude of things, but predominantly for taking pictures of ourselves. And dogs. Mainly dogs.”

Waverly looked relieved, and nodded in agreement that it was wise to keep it quiet until more is known about Davis. Sniffing haughtily she looked at the books scattered across the table, and commented, "I did not realize that you were a scholar."

Frustrated at the beautiful brunette’s mercurial nature, and on her last nerve after hours of sadness and exhaustion clawing at her tired, gritty eyes, Nicole decided to stop fawning over her and give her some of her attitude back as she snapped, "Surely you thought I was a dullard. It may surprise you, my Lady, but I am not. In fact, there is much about me that you do not know. I appreciate you letting me know about supper." With that the angry redhead started to stride away, much ruder than her years of etiquette training at the behest of her parents taught her to act. They would’ve been appalled.

"My Lord Nic!" She spluttered loudly, only to be shushed by several readers in the library. She lunged forward and grabbed the duke by the arm. "Will you escort me to supper?"

Looking into her hazel eyes, Nicole saw something within the flecks of green she couldn't begin to place, but sighing heavily, she softened and put her arm out for Waverly, and strolled through the corridors and into the dining room, where several conversations hushed and the redhead caught the Queen looking at them with a small smile on her face as she ignored whatever the sycophant Hardy was trying to tell her. Guiding Waverly to her seat, Nicole was attempting to suss out which seat was hers when James stepped forward and pulled out the seat to Her Majesty's right. Nicole winked at him for the much appreciated hint and sat down.

Halfway through the feast, Queen Elizabeth turned towards Nicole and asked aloud if the duke had any other drinking games, ones that maybe everyone could be included in.

"Well, Your Majesty, the most popular one is called Beer Pong." The redhead was several goblets of wine in, so she beckoned James over with a pitcher of wine, and arranged several cups in two ten-cup-pyramids, then had him pour a slight measure in each cup. "Now I just need two balls about this big," Nicole gestured about ping pong ball size, and James sheepishly handed the duke two almost adequate wooden ones he had in his pocket. "Now I need a partner, and another team of two for adversaries."

Her Majesty volunteered Waverly who stood up to join the redhead, and by now Nicole had the entire room's attention. "And now for those adversaries, who volunteers?"

Hardy stood up, but no one volunteered to join his team. After a few seconds of obvious unpopularity, there were scattered chuckles and the duke murmured "That's telling," to Waverly who laughed.

Finally one young black haired lord took pity on Hardy and stood up to join the now angry and very red knight.

"Excellent! Now the point of this game is to throw the wooden ball into the opponents' cups and the first team to clear the opponents' cups wins. When the ball lands in one of your own cups, you must promptly drink the wine in the cup and set the cup aside. Simple enough, yes?"

There was applause and Nicole graciously handed the balls to Hardy and his partner to have the first throw. Hardy in his eagerness to embarrass Nicole, hurried and threw his ball far too softly and it bounced well before their cups. The redhead snatched the ball just as Hardy's partner threw his, which bounced off a rim and a giggling Waverly caught it.

Lining up her throw, Nicole let the ball fly and it sank straight into a cup on the side. Amidst cheers and applause, Hardy took the ball out and drank the wine, grimacing in anger. Waverly took her turn and missed by a hair's breadth.

Hardy and his partner made their shots again and this time Hardy's partner landed a ball in the center of their pyramid, otherwise known their "bitch cup.” Taking the ball out, Nicole drank the wine while Waverly picked up Hardy's missed shot. By now there were bets being called aloud and cheers for either team, although the redhead could honestly say that she was hearing hers and Waverly's names the most. A back and forth continued, and while Nicole drank most of the cups, the brunette had several and was getting a bit tipsy. They were down to two on their side and one on Hardy’s. Waverly's shots in her buzz were getting wilder, so the redhead stepped up behind her for her next shot and like any self-respecting creeper, put her hand on her waist and her arm along hers, lining up her shot for her, then stepped away to let her make the shot, which sank straight into the single cup left on their side. 

There were numerous cheers and Hardy's partner was even clapping for them with a smile on his face, but Hardy yelled that it wasn't fair, that the duke had interfered and helped line up her shot.

"I'm sorry, Sir Hardy, I didn't realize you wanted to help your partner line up his shot." Nicole addressed Hardy's partner. "Good sir, would you like to have Sir James help you line up your shot?" Laughing, Hardy's partner shook his head vigorously and Hardy flushed in rage and embarrassment. "Well, if you truly feel like it wasn't fair, then it seems I have no choice but to make my shot as well."

Nicole glanced at the cup, but for added theatrics turned to face Waverly, looking her straight in those beautiful green eyes, watching her flush creep slowly up her neck and across her cheekbones, and threw the ball. The redhead didn't even have to look to know it had landed in the cup, every voice in the room erupted in cheers and Waverly jumped up and hugged Nicole tightly but quickly let go as she evidently remembered her court manners.

Nicole turned to look at Hardy, who was an interesting shade of puce as he stalked off, leaving his partner to finish the final cup, who then affably applauded the duke after he set it down and it seemed everyone in the room came up and clapped Nicole on the back or shoulder. Turning to face the assemblage, she clasped Waverly's hand as she bowed and the countess curtseyed to Queen Elizabeth, who was laughing and clapping along with everyone else.

Others were already clamoring to claim the next game. Nicole slipped James several shillings as payment for his balls, which he was now never going to get back. "But, Your Grace, this is far too much!" he exclaimed, but the duke only winked at him and told him to spend it wisely.

Waverly went back to her seat next to the Queen who immediately started questioning her about the game, but before Nicole could head over to hers, a short blond head of hair was in front of her nose, and a hand on the tall redhead’s chest. The duke blinked in tipsy confusion and looked down at a young, blonde woman who was looking coquettishly up into Nicole’s eyes with her dull brown ones.

Blinking, Nicole greeted the forward woman, "Hello."

"Hello. I am Lady Stephanie Jones." She simpered in response.

"What can I help you with, Lady Stephanie?" The duke looked over her shoulder and it seemed both Waverly and the Queen had noticed Lady Stephanie's accosting of her person. Neither one of which looked happy about it.

"Well, Your Grace, I was actually wondering what I could do to help you? Many of the gentlemen at court have found me to be... good company, and I know you must be lonely so far from home. Although, in truth I could use someone to talk to for the remainder of supper. Your defeat of Sir James has greatly soured his mood." _Does she realize she sounds like a ho? ‘ Many of the gentlemen at court have found me good company?’ Is she bragging?_ Nicole wondered to herself.

Nicole glanced blearily around, and of course, there was Hardy glaring at Nicole and at Stephanie's hand which was still high on the redhead’s chest, fingers lightly tracing the patterns in the crushed velvet along her collarbone. Nicole looked back down at her and taking Stephanie’s hand from her chest briefly touched her lips to it, not even enough to be called a kiss, but she simpered and pressed herself against the young duke, batting her brown eyes up at her. Waverly's nostrils flared and Nicole almost expected fire to shoot from her eyes or smoke from her nostrils, while Queen Elizabeth was busy eyeing Waverly's draconic response to Stephanie.

"Well, Lady Stephanie, I cannot promise you the remainder of supper, but I suppose I can keep you company during the next game of wine pong."

She took Nicole’s hand in her plump sweaty one and led her to two seats with a good view of the next game, where two teams had formed and more bets were being placed. During their conversation, which seemed mainly centered around questions about Nicole and Davis, the redhead found her a bit vapid, but seemingly sweet enough. Although, as the game ended and Nicole was trying to extricate herself to return to the Queen and Waverly, Stephanie gave such a pout, that she momentarily resembled a fish. Placating her with another barely-there kiss to her knuckles, the duke headed back up to the main table. Hardy immediately swooped in and grabbed Stephanie by the upper arm and practically dragged her from the dining room.

Shaking her head, the duke went back and took her seat on Queen Elizabeth's side. The Queen leaned over, "This game of yours seems to be a big hit, we are very grateful to you for introducing it to us." The latest game of wine pong ended, and the Queen clapped in pleasure and with a grimace, Waverly passed over a few coins, which, smirking, the Queen tucked away in a pocket. "Also, we see you made Lady Stephanie's acquaintance. What do you make of her?" The Queen asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 

"Well, she seems charming enough..." Nicole started off but was interrupted by an outburst from Waverly.

"Well maybe you _are_ a dullard!” Waverly’s eyes flashed as she spat out angrily, “She is well known as a harlot by the entire court!"

The Queen just snorted into her wine cup at Waverly's angry outburst, and Waverly stood up in fury and curtseyed to the Queen and stormed out. Nicole looked at where Waverly had just swept out in consternation and the Queen asked that the duke go after her and attempt to placate her.

Standing and bowing to Her Majesty, the tall redhead followed Waverly out the same way. She hurried down the corridor and turned the corner ready to sprint off in search of the outraged woman, but skidded to a halt just before running into Waverly. She was leaned up against a wall, just around the corner out of sight of the dining room. She turned her back to the young duke, but not before Nicole saw angry tears ready to spill from her eyes.

"My Lady Waverly, Her Majesty asked that I come find you... are you okay?" The redhead spluttered.

"Oh of course! Her Majesty sends you to find me! Otherwise you would probably still be in the dining room making eyes at Lady Stephanie!" She sobbed in fury.

Like the absolute idiot she was, Nicole began, "But Lady Stephanie had already left the room..." The countess gave an angry huff and started smacking the tall redhead’s chest.

"Waverly!" Nicole exclaimed startled and caught her hands in her own, pressing them tight against the young duke’s upper chest to stop the smacking. Waverly struggled a little but then the fight went out of her in an instant and they were frozen in that position for a moment, until she stepped in, tilting her head up, and to Nicole’s surprise, brushing her lips softly against the redhead’s before pressing them more firmly against them. However, the teen didn't have a chance to respond this time, as two chattering men of the court turned the corner and their conversation halted at the sight of the two in an embrace. Waverly slipped her hands free of Nicole’s surprise-slackened grip and smacked the duke soundly across the face and stormed off down the corridor.

Knowing that this could be damaging to Waverly's reputation, with a wolfish grin across her face, Nicole turned and shrugged at the gentlemen. "A man has to try, right?"

They both laughed and clapped Nicole on the back, then headed off on their way.

Pressing her hand first to her lips, and then to her stinging cheek, the young duke shook her head as she turned and headed back to the dining room _. I've always said that women are crazy, but men are dumb_ , Nicole mused to herself.

She sat back down next to the Queen, who leaned over to ask, "Did you console her?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Your Majesty. I certainly attempted to..." Nicole saw her eyes flick up to the red hand print on her cheek and the Queen smiled fondly.

"We’re sure you made every effort. You must excuse our Maid of Honour, she can be... querulous, but she has a very soft heart."

"Indeed, she can, although I look forward to seeing this soft side of her.” Nicole huffed and remembering just who she was huffing at, continued, “Please excuse me, Your Majesty, I am suddenly tired, and should retire to my rooms for the night." At the Queen’s nod, the duke bowed and walked from the dining hall back towards her apartments, motioning for James to lead the way.


	9. Chapter 9

The next couple of days were a repetitive pattern of getting up in the morning, and heading down to the field to practice her lance skills and swordsmanship and after a few hours of practice, Nicole would take her sweating, aching body to the library to plop down in a chair with some tomes and do research into how to get back home.

Finally, the first day of the tournament came, and it promised to be a good day. Sunlight was streaming through the windows bright and warm. James knocked and entered while the redhead was swishing and spitting her toothpaste. He and two dirty boys with soot on their faces carried in bundles wrapped in wool and cotton.

"Your Grace, these are the blacksmith's apprentices," both boys awkwardly bowed while holding their packages. "They have brought your sword and armor fresh from the blacksmith's forge."

And with that he unwrapped the skinny package he was holding and Nicole’s new sword was revealed. She took it by the handle from him, and it fit perfectly in her hand and the balance was absolutely spot-on as she swung it a couple times back and forth. When she looked up the armor was unwrapped and gleaming in the sunlight. There was minimal decoration, but what inlays and engravings there were, were spectacular, twining across the breastplate to form a dragon rampant, her chosen coat of arms.

“I liked drawin’ the dragon, milord.” The smallest boy shyly said, looking up bashfully through his lashes, sooty cheeks reddening. Nicole raised her eyebrows in shock at the young boy’s skill, and responded, “It is beautifully done, young man. You have no small amount of skill.”

The smallest boy beamed, and his counterpart proudly clapped him on the shoulder. James coughed to draw the attention back to the task at hand. "They are here to help me buckle you into it for the first time." James nodded at the blacksmith’s boys beside him.

With that they handed the young duke the wrappings, which were in fact her armor padding. The redhead’s undershirt was baggy enough that she was able to take her doublet off and put on the padding without revealing what she was hiding underneath. Stepping up, the boys started to individually strap on the breastplate and greaves, handing the young duke the gauntlets and helmet to put on herself. Putting her gauntlets on as they belted her sword in its scabbard around her waist, she then put her helmet on for a moment to get the feel for it, despondent to see it considerably narrowed her line of sight. _I almost can’t see with this on. This is going to suck, but I guess better than taking a shard of wood to the eye_ , Nicole thought unenthusiastically.

She took the helmet off and thanked the boys for their hard work and instructed them to convey her gratitude to their master, Thomas the blacksmith.

"Thank'ee, sir," the taller and considerably cleaner one said proudly. "He worked us hard, night and day, to get 'em finished in time."

Feeling guilty, she handed each a shilling and told them to help themselves to a pastry each from her breakfast, which Grace had laid out in her antechamber.

Looking at herself in the burnished silver that served as her mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself; she truly looked like a young lord, resplendent in new armor. The tall redhead stood a little straighter, chin lifting and chest puffing out with pride, and followed the boys out into the antechamber.

They were congregated around Nicole’s breakfast, the taller one, possibly imagining himself a Casanova, was trying to chat up Grace, but she was having none of it, while James glowered at him from the corner. Chuckling to herself, the duke decided to take pity on Grace and James, and sent the boys on their way, half-finished pastries in their hands. Nicole wolfed down some bread and cheese, washed it down with water, and then following James, headed out into the main palace corridors on her way to the tournament green. 

Following James around a corner, she cut it sharper than him, and literally bumped into Waverly. "Oof!" She exclaimed and the redhead reached out to steady her, just as she put a steadying hand on Nicole’s cold, metal-plated chest. "Duke Nic, I'm so sorry."

"No, my Lady, please accept my apologies. I wasn't paying enough attention and was in too big a hurry." Nicole replied, but her eyes were already looking the tall duke up and down in her new armor.

"I see you received your armor. Thomas did a magnificent job, you cut a very striking figure." Waverly unconsciously bit her lip as once again looked the duke up and down.

"It's not the armor." The tall duke replied with a wink at her reddening face, then with a kiss to her hand, passed by the countess and continued down the corridor.

James turned and looked behind them, then whispered, "She's watching you walk away."

"They always do, James. Once you learn to give them a bite, then show that you can walk away from them and their womanly charms, almost any woman is instantly on the hook. There's something about being charming and mysterious that most women go nuts for." The young duke spoke as though wise in the way of women, instead of absolutely talking out of her ass like she was.

James looked like he was taking notes in his head, probably to try out on Grace later, as they passed out into the nearly blinding sunlight, and instantly stifling warmth. There were already crowds of people milling around, filling the stands down the field and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Nicole followed James across to the considerably plusher box of seats, complete with a large gilt chair in which the Queen was sitting, with an empty seat, presumably for Waverly, to her right.

Bowing as deeply as she could, weighted down in her new armor as she was, Nicole addressed the Queen, "Your Majesty, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity. These are the most gracious gifts I've ever received."

"It was our pleasure, my Lord Davis, and as another gesture of good will between our two nations, we would like to present you with this." She gestured behind Nicole and she turned to see James leading an enormous, beautiful black warhorse towards her. Its coat was gleaming in the daylight, and sunlight also glinted off of the elaborately decorated saddle and bridle as it tossed its head in annoyance at being led. "We are told he is still a bit feisty, but we felt confident that you would be able to handle his temperament and tap into his soft side." The Queen’s eyes danced in mirth at her private joke.

Unable to take her eyes off the beautiful creature, Nicole stretched her fingertips out, which he snuffled and allowed the redhead to pet his silky nose. Instantly, he calmed under her hand and she rubbed down his neck, patting him firmly before turning back to the Queen. "Your Majesty, words cannot express my gratitude at this point." Waverly climbed up the steps and took her seat next to Her Majesty, who smiling, gestured for Nicole to climb into the saddle. Handing her helmet to James, Nicole pulled herself up into the saddle and accepted the helmet back from him as she adjusted in the seat. The brunette countess looked at Nicole up on the magnificent warhorse and the tall redhead could almost see herself reflected in her eyes with her helmet tucked under her arm. Nodding at the two women, Nicole put her helmet on, and trotted towards the end of the lists to give her new horse a couple of runs.

The redhead pulled the horse around after its third run of the lists and he obediently headed back to the viewing station and the waiting Queen and her Maid of Honour. They had been joined by a few more nobles and ladies. Several seats to their right was Stephanie who waved jubilantly, almost jumping out of her seat with her fervor. Nodding politely at her, Nicole continued past directly onto the Queen and Waverly. 

"Well done. You handle him as well as they expected you would. Have you thought of a name for him?" Queen Elizabeth leaned forward to ask.

"I was thinking, Artemis' Shadow, after the beautiful and virginal Greek goddess of the hunt and moon, but the moon has a dark side." Nicole looked straight at the changeable countess as she named the horse, but turned back to smile at Her Majesty. "But Shadow for short, Your Majesty."

At this moment, Stephanie shouldered her way through the people separating her from the Queen's side, and waved a handkerchief at the duke. "My Lord Davis, I was thinking you could wear my favor during the tournament, if you choose!" She simpered and batted her eyelashes at the tall redhead.

Brain shocked into sluggishness, Nicole couldn't formulate a polite denial fast enough, but Waverly jumped to her feet and held out her own handkerchief, this one a beautiful soft blue-green color, as opposed to Stephanie's violently pink one. "My sincerest apologies, Lady Stephanie, but my Lord Davis has already asked me for mine."

Meeting Waverly’s sly green-eyed wink, Nicole nodded in confirmation as she coughed and said, "Yes, the Countess Devonshire has already consented to honor me with her favor in this tournament." The teen looked over Stephanie’s shoulder just in time to catch Hardy trotting up and his eyes catch Lady Stephanie holding out her handkerchief, and follow the line of her arm in Nicole’s direction. A look of fury suffused his face at this. "But perhaps Sir Hardy would appreciate the honor." The redhead said loudly enough for him to hear.

A look of confusion mixed with the anger on his face, and Lady Stephanie pouted something terrible, but Nicole was already kicking Shadow forward to accept Waverly's handkerchief, which the redhead kissed briefly, taking the opportunity to breathe deeply of lavender and soap, just like Waverly. The duke tucked it safely into her breastplate against her heart and smiled at Waverly, mouthing a "thank you," which she smiled in response at, then took her seat next to Her Majesty again. Nicole bowed in her saddle at both ladies and circled her horse around as the trumpets sounded to call the participants to the lists.

The Queen leaned over to murmur to Waverly, "We shall have to see about taking Duke Davis off the market, he is attracting far too much female attention, and therefore trouble from the men hoping to woo them." The countess grimaced, but quickly recovered and smiled in response to Her Majesty.

Overhearing the comment she certainly wasn’t supposed to hear, Nicole felt a chill pass down her spine. Nicole wasn't sure what exactly the Queen meant, but either way it couldn't be good. No one must learn her secret. Her freedom, and life, depended on it. The redhead shuddered in her armor at the thought of being tied to Lady Stephanie. God only knows which STDs she has, and she is _so_ vapid. Also, Hardy might have an aneurysm... which might make it worth it. _Hmm. Decisions, decisions._

The tournament began, and they announced who would be competing in each run by holding up the heraldic shield of each knight in the match. Finally it was the white dragon rampant on a field of blue and gold, the colors of UC Davis, that Nicole had adopted as her shield against a knight whose arms the duke didn’t recognize.

Lining up at her end of the list, she was handed her lance by an unnamed squire. She was going to have to see about getting a squire of her own... she wondered if she could convince Her Majesty to let Nicole use James as a squire. Holding the lance up, she raised it in a salute to the knight at the other end, one he returned, and the flag was dropped. The redhead kicked her heels hard into Shadow's flanks, and leveled the lance down. Shadow took off, thundering down the field and Nicole got her lance couched against her side, aiming the tip right at the shield of the knight.

Her lance never even touched, while his lance splintered against her shield, throwing her arm and shoulder back, as she felt the strain through her back muscles. Nicole was going to be in a world of hurt in a bit. The duke couldn't let him land another hit. That was already one point, and Hardy and a few members of the crowd were jeering at Nicole’s unbroken lance. Lining up at their respective ends of the lists, as the flag dropped again, Nicole kicked Shadow forward, leveling and couching her lance, but at almost the last second, she threw her arm forward, getting the extra couple of inches she needed to break her lance hard on his shield. The teen’s arm shuddered with the impact, but it had been enough, and the knight reeled without breaking his lance. They were now tied 1-1 and lined up for another run, Nicole accepting a new lance from her borrowed squire, before thundering off down the list at each other. Again, she managed to couch her lance, before she threw her arm forward and hit the knight squarely on his shield breaking his lance. The Duke of Davis had won this match, and the two saluted each other.

James ran up to Nicole with a cool wet cloth to wipe down her sweating face. A few more matches and Davis’ shield was put up again, this time against the young lord who had been Hardy's partner at wine pong that first night. Nicole mounted Shadow and was passed up a lance.

After their salute, they took off at each other, and the redhead tried leaning forward this time, hoping to get some vital extra length. She threw her arm forward as before, but her opponent rolled his shoulder back and Nicole’s lance only glanced along his shield, but luckily his did the same. Circling around, they lined up again holding their unbroken lances aloft. This next run as she thrust her lance forward, she stood in the stirrups, leaning forward and Nicole’s lance broke soundly on his chest. He reeled and dropped his lance trying to maintain his balance on the horse. He managed to stay on and they lined up for their final run. This time they both connected and both of their lances broke, but the duke had more points so she won that match also. After their salute, Nicole dismounted, eager for more cool water from James. This time she needed several wipe downs and poured much of it down her throat.

Nicole had a long rest this time before she was up again. It was the finals, down to herself and, of course, Hardy. When they lined up to face each other, he grabbed his lance with more anger and force from his squire than necessary, and that his salute was barely a salute at all.

With the drop of the flag, they raced towards each other. He had a significantly longer reach than Nicole and she didn't deflect his lance well enough. It landed solidly on her shield, and she reeled backwards in the saddle, held up only by the high backing. The duke dropped her lance in her attempt to maintain balance, but luckily his lance didn't break. The redhead could almost feel his anger and hatred radiating through the lance.

The next run started off with them thundering down at each other, but this time Nicole was leaning back and throwing her lance forward, hoping to mess with his depth perception. Her lance landed solidly on his shield, breaking, as his did on her shield. There was one last chance, or else she would lose and he would be declared the winner.

The flag dropped and Nicole kicked her heels deep into Shadow, urging him on to greater speeds in her mind. The redhead imagined running her lance hard into Hardy's chest, almost through him. The vision grew clearer with each step Shadow took towards Hardy's horse. At just the right moment, she dropped her shielded shoulder, and Hardy's lance glanced past, while her lance made solid contact with his chest, lifting him clean off his horse to land in a puff of dirt on his ass.

The crowd erupted into cheers, jeers, and laughs as Hardy lay stunned in the dust, then attempted to roll himself over in the heavy jousting armor while failing miserably.

Circling Shadow around to face the Queen while Hardy’s squire rushed out to help him to his feet, out of the corner of her eye Nicole saw Hardy shove his squire into the dust as soon as he regained his feet, and storm off.

The Queen was laughing and clapping along with everyone else, but as she stood up, the crowd fell silent.

“That was an impressive victory, Duke Davis. We proclaim you the victor, here are your spoils.” She handed a bag of coins to a groom who rushed them over to the tall redhead.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I believe the credit belongs with Lady Waverly, for I am sure that it was her favor that endowed me with such luck.” Out of the corner of her eye, the suave duke saw Waverly blush, which was adorable, and Stephanie glowering, which was not so adorable. Leaning down, she accepted the bag of coins from the groom and raised it high, at which the crowd erupted into cheers anew.

A boy ran up and took Shadow’s reins to lead him off to be brushed and watered. As the sweaty redhead walked back to the castle for a bath, she pulled out Waverly’s handkerchief and discreetly, so as not to be a creep, held it to her nose and breathed as deeply as possible, in search of that hint of lavender. Failing at not looking like a creeper, she got a funny look from a man walking towards the arena, so she tried to play it off like she was wiping her sweaty, dusty face. _Smooth, Nicole, real smooth._

The duke could hear the chatter of people as the crowd spilled out of the stands and started to exit the arena. Just as she reached the front doors of the castle, James jogged up from behind, absolutely overflowing with excitement and enthusiasm about her victory.

Nicole just let him carry along in his excitement as a wave of exhaustion engulfed the teen. Several men passed by and clapped her on the shoulder and the women that passed by smiled coquettishly at Nicole and giggled to their companions at his answering grin.

When they got to her rooms and James helped Nicole out of the armor and offered to help rub the duke down before the bath.

“For your muscles, milord, they must be sore after today.”

“Thank you, James, but I think a nice, long, hot bath will do well enough.”

“I already had them get it started. I sent a boy as soon as you knocked Sir James off his horse.”

Sure enough, as they entered her inner chamber, there was a steaming bath and Grace, with the help of another servant, was dumping the final pot of scalding water into it. They both dropped into curtsies as they entered and Grace blushed and patted her hair when she spotted James over Nicole’s shoulder, and the redhead didn’t have to look to know that James was blushing, too.

“Thank you everyone, I’m very grateful.” 

“Try not to take too long, Your Grace,” Grace mentioned. “The feast in honor of your victory will start in a couple of hours.”

“I will do my best, Grace, thank you for the heads up.” The duke responded.

Nicole luxuriated in the bath, letting the warm water soothe her muscles for as long as possible, but it seemed that all too soon, James knocked on the door.

“Duke Davis? Milord?” he called through the door. “Her Majesty wishes to see you in her chambers before the feast.”

With a deep sigh, Nicole called out, “Thank you, James.” Groaning she climbed out of the water, her body protesting the loss of its hot water.

She put on her best doublet, a dark blue with gold thread in her heraldic colors. She opened the door to find James was standing at attention waiting, but the redhead saw his eyes glance over her shoulder at the still steaming bathtub in front of the fire, and Nicole saw a look of longing cross his face as she noticed then that his face was still dusty from the arena.

“After you lead me to Her Majesty’s rooms, you can come back and bathe the dust off if you want. The water is cooling but should still be warm enough.”

A flush crept up his neck but he bobbed a quick bow and turned to lead Nicole to the Queen’s chambers. Corridor after corridor wound through the palace and the duke became convinced that she would never get the hang of the palace. James stopped in front of a door and announced the Duke of Davis to the guard waiting out front. The guard nodded and James went scurrying back down the corridors, eager to take advantage of the bath while the waters were still warm.

The guard knocked then opened the door for the duke, and she entered the Queen’s opulent privy chamber. As always Waverly was at the Queen’s side and bowing deeply to Her Majesty, then bowing to Waverly who sketched a quick curtsey back.

“You requested me, Your Majesty?” The redhead asked the seated monarch.

“Yes, my Lord Davis. We requested you both.” The duke glanced at Waverly, who looked perplexed as well, but then straight back to the Queen. “When we first made your acquaintance, we had mentioned our intention of making an alliance with your land of Davis. The time has come. We have decided on the strongest of alliances…. One of marriage binding our two nations together.”

Nicole’s head swam and she felt her blood turn to ice. _How can I get myself out of this mess?_ Nicole frantically asked herself.

“Y-Your Majesty?” The redhead stuttered. “You wish to marry me?”

Out of the corner of her wide eyes, the brunette looked like she was going to be sick.

“Not us, Davis, but one of our ladies.” The Queen paused and nonchalantly examining her fingernails, continued, “Lady Stephanie Jones has made several hints as to her interest in you.”

Waverly spluttered, “But she’s a cow! And a trollop!” Taking a breath, she muttered again, “And a cow!”

The Queen raised an eyebrow at the brunette’s outburst, who blanched with shame. “We agree she is not the most suitable choice, that is why we will not marry her to my Lord Nic.” Waverly breathed a sigh of relief and color started to return to her cheeks. “Instead, we are giving Duke Davis to you in marriage. That is, if you both are agreeable?” She gave the two a look that clearly dared them to disagree.

This time Nicole had to put her hand on a seatback for support and met Waverly’s green eyes, widened in shock.

“Of course, Your Majesty, anything you wish.” The redhead said with a bow, and with a harsh swallow, the brunette countess repeated the duke’s wise words.

“Excellent!” The Queen crowed. “We will sign the necessary documents later and seal the treaty, but for now we must go to your victory feast. We cannot be late, we have a happy announcement to make.”

The newly affianced couple curtseyed and bowed as the Queen proceeded them out the door, but she stopped suddenly and turned back to Nicole. “Aren’t you going to offer your betrothed your arm, Your Grace?”

Exchanging a look with the brunette, the tall redhead slowly offered her arm and the brunette just as gingerly took it. Satisfied with her handiwork, the Queen turned and led the way to the feast. The gathered nobles quieted and stood as they entered and the Queen went to her seat, while Waverly and Nicole stood behind their seats on either side of her, but rather than sit down, Her Majesty addressed the assembly.

“It is our pleasure to announce that we are going to formalize our treaty of alliance with Duke Nic and his land of Davis. The strongest alliance lies in marrying our two countries together, so we announce the marriage of my Lord Nic to…” The crowd hushed into total silence, not a shuffle or cough broke it as the question of whether their virginal Queen would no longer be a virgin cross through their minds. The redhead saw Stephanie’s face light up in interest and Waverly saw it as well judging by her sight line and the look of disdain in her sneer. “To Lady Waverly Earp, Countess of Devonshire.” Stephanie’s face clouded in anger and she stormed from the room while everyone else clapped and cheered. 

The three sat down to eat, but Nicole found she had no appetite; her mind was spinning with horror, shock, and anxiety. _This is a disaster. How am I supposed to hide the fact that I’m a girl not a boy from my wife?_ Nicole’s mind whirled. Congratulations were being given to the couple for their betrothal and Nicole’s earlier victory, but it seemed that the brunette was unable to eat as well.

It seemed the feast dragged on all too long, but eventually the brunette leaned over and suggested they should head to the duke’s rooms to talk. Nodding, Nicole stood up, and out of habit, offered the brunette her arm, which Waverly took also out of habit, both of them moving woodenly. Starting to walk out, there was a wave of whistles, cheers, and applause and the brunette blushed fiercely at the whistles and all but dragged the redhead out of the hall and down the corridors. Thank God she knew how to get to the duke’s rooms, because Nicole would have never gotten them there.

As they entered Nicole’s antechamber, James, who had been stoking the fire, jumped in surprise.

“Your Grace! You’re back… with my Lady Waverly…” and for some reason, eyes widening, he turned as white as a sheet and glanced towards the door to the duke’s inner bed chamber.

“James? Are you well? You look pale.” The tall redhead asked in concern, stepping towards her groom with a hand outstretched.

He started shaking and stuttering, “Y-Your G-Grace, may I have a quick word?” He kept glancing towards Nicole’s bedchamber door.

“Anything you want to say, you can say in front of Lady Waverly. We are betrothed now, and I will have no secrets from her.” _Except for one huge one_ , Nicole admitted to herself.

His stutter got worse and he looked like he was going to faint. “B-Betrothed? Your Grace… my Lady, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, she just came in and said she was going to wait for you in your chamber.” Running his fingers through his fiery hair, he looked like he was going to pull it all out in stress.

The brunette and the young duke glanced at each other eyes scrunching and brows furrowing in confusion. “Could Her Majesty have beat us here? But why would she be in my bedchamber?” Nicole queried aloud, as she headed towards the inner chamber to see for herself. Waverly followed her and based on the muffled thump behind the two, James’ knees finally give out as he sat heavily on the arm of one of the fireside chairs.

Opening her door, the teen was surprised to see, not the Queen, but a naked Stephanie waiting for her. Recumbent in her bed. Between her sheets, but clearly naked.

Nicole pulled up short, completely shocked, and Waverly walked into the tall redhead’s back. “Is it her? Is it the Qu-…” She started to ask but stopped as she peeked around Nicole at who awaited them.

“Lady Stephanie? What the _fuck_ are you doing in my bed?!” The redhead demanded. Behind the young duke she could almost feel Waverly’s anger boiling over, uncomfortably hot pulses of rage beating upon her back.

“Nic? I was waiting for you, of course.” She simpered, but as her eyes caught the brunette over Nicole’s shoulder, she sneered, “I didn’t realize you would have… company.”

“It is ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Duke Davis’ to you. You have not earned the right to call me by my Christian name.” The redhead gave herself a mental pat on the back for remembering that antiquated term.

Lady Stephanie pressed her lips tightly together into a thin line and turned beet red. She swung herself out of the duke’s bed, hiding nothing, and Nic choked on her saliva. _Oh my_ God _. She’s vapid and conniving but_ damn _she looks_ good, Nicole swallowed hard, her breath quickening as she cursed her teenage hormones, and tried to avert her eyes as she heard Waverly’s growl at noticing her body’s response. Stephanie put her shift on and angrily snatched her dress off the chair it was draped over. As she was stuffing herself into it, Nicole cleared her throat and called back into her antechamber. “James?” She heard him jump to attention. “Please escort Lady Stephanie to her chambers and then bring me fresh sheets, these will have to be laundered.”

The blonde turned an impressive shade of puce and stalked past the couple out the door. She stopped at the duke’s shoulder and hissed between her clenched teeth, “Eventually you will tire of her and come to me, Your Grace. They all do.” And with that she glared at the brunette, who snarled back.

Instinctively the tall redhead placed herself between the Ladies Stephanie and Waverly as the blonde stomped past and it wasn’t until she and James had walked out into the corridor that the teen realized her arm was falling asleep. Glancing down, she saw the tourniquet that was Waverly’s white-knuckled fingers digging into her arm in anger. The duke turned to face her and was met with a resounding slap.

“Have you been sleeping with her?!” She hissed furiously, green eyes flashing. “Do you even realize how this makes me look as your betrothed?! How this shames me?! This will end!” She pulled her arm back as though to slap Nicole again.

The duke caught her second swing and said calmly, “It never began, I swear. This was a surprise to me as well. But you must stop hitting me, woman.”

With an indignant jut of her chin, the brunette demanded, “Let go of me, Your Grace.” As she tugged on her arm in the duke’s grasp.

Warm brown eyes scanning her stormy orbs, Nicole read the serious harm those hazel depths were promising. “Nic. Call me ‘Nic.’” Brushing her thumb across the soft skin of the brunette’s wrist, the redhead let go and walked over to grab her backpack from its clever hiding spot under her bed and pulled out the scotch.

“I need a drink. How about you?” She glanced over her shoulder at the brunette who was unconsciously tracing her fingers over her previously captive wrist.

She just nodded and sneered in disgust at the now rumpled bedsheets, but sat in one of the plush chairs by the fire. The duke walked the bottle over and sat it on the table between the brunette’s chair and the chair she plopped herself in.

The height of class, Nicole yanked the cork out with her teeth and took a swig straight from the bottle. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a glass to offer you-“ the brunette snatched the proffered bottle from the duke’s hand and took a big swallow. “So you’re stressed out by this situation, too?” The redhead asked as she took the bottle back and drank deeply as well.

“We have no choice. We cannot go against Her Majesty. Also, England really does need this alliance with your Davis. Are you truly not sleeping with the Lady Stephanie?” The volatile brunette asked curtly.

Choking on her sip of scotch, she spluttered as it burned up her nose, “I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole.” And handed the bottle back to the brunette’s grabby hand.

She just nodded slowly and swigged from the bottle with an indecipherable look on her face. Both were lost in their thoughts until a knock on the door caused them to jump.

“Come in.” The weary duke announced.

Grace and James entered with fresh sheets, with which they proceeded to make the bed after stripping it of the old ones. Once they were done, they bowed and curtseyed with their arms full of the laundry and left the nobles to their drinking.

“Your Grace-“ She started but the redhead interrupted with “Nic.” She paused to eye to eye the duke. “Nic, then… tell me more about your land.”

The teenager started listing off stuff about the 21st century, society, examples of technology, etc. Hours passed like in easy conversation and eventually they were effortlessly referring to each other by first name. The redhead was slowly chipping away at the wall the brunette had had up against her since day one, but decided to attack it straight on.

“Waverly, why have you been hostile to me since we met? How did I offend you?” Nicole slurred mildly in her inebriation.

Staring deep into the fire, contemplating the depths of the flames, the brunette’s voice cracked as she responded, “I do not find it easy to let people in, having learned over the years that most people will just abandon or betray you. So it scared me how drawn to you I was… that I am.” She glanced up at Nicole’s face, but immediately averted her eyes to the bottle of scotch she was nervously rolling between her hands.

For once in her life, the teen didn’t have a flippant but charming comeback. Instead she just stood up, walked over to the brunette’s chair, and got down on her knee in front of the sniffling countess. Tracing her finger along a finely sculpted jaw and ending at her chin, Nicole lifted it slowly so her inquisitive eyes could meet fearful hazel ones. Studying their whirling green depths, the redhead very slowly, so the brunette could pull away and she didn’t get slapped again, leaned in and pressed her lips to the brunette’s. At first it was just a soft line of delicious warmth along her lips, but that warmth turned into flame licking through her mouth and down her spine as Waverly opened her mouth a fraction and Nicole inhaled the brunette’s scent. After that it was all the duke could think about, that scent all consuming, needing more and more of it, she swiped her tongue along the brunette’s plump bottom lip and she gasped into Nicole’s mouth and flicked her tongue out to stroke tenderly alongside the redhead’s. Tongues probed back and forth, and the redhead sucked on Waverly’s warm, wet muscle, causing shivers to radiate down the brunette’s spine. Nicole found herself craving and pursuing Waverly’s taste, and hands started to wander looking to feel if she was as soft and warm everywhere else. It was that wandering which cut through the intoxicating passion and snapped Nicole back to reality. With a final set of soft kisses, she gently pulled away from the exhilarating countess. Chasing her lips, slowly hazel eyes opened and her swollen lips closed, Nicole displaying the same glazed look in her brown eyes as her green orbs showed.

“Waverly, we have been drinking. I don’t want us to end up doing something that you might regret. Allow me to escort you safely back to your rooms.”

“I would appreciate that, Your Grace… Nic.” With that, the young duke helped her up from her chair and she was surprisingly unsteady. Nicole gave the brunette her arm for support, but stood closer than usual so that their hips were touching as they strolled slowly through the corridors, following James of course.

Making their way to the countess’s door, which her serving girl opened for them, Waverly leaned in, either for a goodnight kiss or to whisper something, she fell forward, collapsing into Nicole’s arms. The tall redhead caught her, but she was out cold. Glancing in confusion at James, then at Waverly’s maid, neither one looked like they knew what to do, so Nicole just lifted the drunk brunette into her arms and carried her across the threshold into her chambers. Not even officially married, and already having to carry her over the threshold knocked out drunk, this boded well. Nicole stepped through her antechamber, glancing about at the green and cream color scheme, into her inner room, and the brunette’s maid rushed past the duke to pull back the covers and remove the warming pan she had in between the sheets. She laid Waverly softly down on the bed, and pulled off her shoes, then tucked her feet into the sheets and pulled them over her. The redhead kissed her lightly on the forehead, taking a final moment to study her soft features and brushing her hair out of her face, she turned to exit with James, leaving Waverly in her serving girl’s hands.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some WayHaught fluff!
> 
> Chrissy, I promise I hate doing this you...

Nicole woke up the next morning and her head felt like it was full of cotton. Shoving the sheets back, she rolled out of bed, but as she turned around to tug the sheets up, the teenager stared in horror at the red spot that confronted her.

Her period had started.

Panic froze her brain and all she could do was wonder what she could do to explain that away.

James knocked and entered quickly. “Your Grace, I did not want to wake you, but today is the second day of the tournament. You are entered in the sword-fighting. It will begin after lunch. Grace is here with your breakfast and then we must get you ready.”

His eyes focused on the accursed spot and he blushed and fixed his eyes on the wall over the tall duke’s shoulder. “I take it things went well with my Lady Waverly, last night then, Your Grace?”

She stared at him blankly, and he flushed a deeper crimson. “I beg your pardon, my lord, I did not mean to offend with my presumption, I just assumed…”

At that moment, it hit the duke and it seemed like the answer to her problems; he thought that Waverly and Nicole had consummated their betrothal last night and that was why there was blood on Nicole’s sheets.

Covering her surprise with a cough, she cleared her throat and answered him, “Things did go _very_ well with the Countess Devonshire last night, but in order to preserve her honor, despite our betrothal, I would prefer if this could be handled discreetly. Can you have Grace launder the sheets?”

“Absolutely, my lord, and your breakfast awaits in the antechamber.”

“No time, I have pressing business to take care of before the sword-fighting begins. You and Grace should enjoy it together.” The redhead winked at James and he blushed.

“But, Your Grace…” he started, but Nicole cut him off. “James, I will be back in time, but I must leave now. Can you direct me to the stables? I will need Shadow saddled.”

James nodded, then bowed quickly and stuck his head out the door to hail a passing servant, as he barked out, “Head to the stables and have one of the grooms saddle Artemis’ Shadow for my Lord Davis. Immediately.”

“Excellent. Thank you, James. Now, you and Grace get started on breakfast and make sure to tell her about the need for discretion with the sheets.”

James nodded and walked out. As soon as he was out the door, the teen did the only thing she could think of and stuffed a rag in her boxers. A quick teethbrushing later, she slung her backpack onto her shoulders, and walked out into her antechamber. James jumped to attention, his mouth full and wiped the crumbs from his lips. Grace jumped up and curtseyed, hand demurely covering her full mouth.

Nicole waved them back to their seats and asked James for the directions to the stables. He gave them to her, and the duke set off, leaving them to their breakfast.

Repetition was making navigating the hallways easier, and Nicole only got turned around once; after asking directions from a maid with her arms full of washing, the duke was in front of the stables. Shadow was already saddled and bridled in front, waiting for her to climb up into the saddle, and the groom passed the redhead the reins. She turned Shadow and took off at a gallop each stride taking her farther from the castle of Whitehall.

Passing through the gates, she was back in the fetid city of London and could only walk Shadow at this point, to avoid trampling the pedestrians. Her nose was almost overwhelmed with the stench of the populace. Here and there the teen noticed yellow fabric tied to windows and doors of buildings and that everywhere else, the crush of people was almost stifling, but these places were given a wide berth by the pedestrians.

If she remembered correctly, yellow flags meant someone inside was suffering from cholera. A terrible thought hit her and she detoured over to the White Dragon. Her worry proved true, there was a yellow flag flying from the upstairs window. She went around to the back and tied Shadow up in the stable Randy and Chrissy had back there, making sure to keep him well away from the water trough provided for the horses to drink from. Entering through the back door, she passed through the kitchen, and noted the hearth fire was down to embers, and she could hear no noise coming from the usually boisterous common room. Sure enough there was not one person in the room. 

Hearing a creak, she spun towards the stairs with her hand on the hilt of the dagger that William had given her, it seemed so long ago. It was Chrissy, carrying a bucket, and she stopped abruptly when she saw the redhead.

“Nic.” She breathed out, but continued down the stairs and out the front door, dumping the foul-smelling contents of the bucket around the side of the inn, in a tiny alleyway separating it from the next building.

“Chrissy, I saw the yellow flag. Are you..?” The duke started, but couldn’t finish, she already knew the answer.

“No,” she shook her head and tears welled up in her eyes. “My father.”

“Is he..?” She started again, but once more, couldn’t finish.

“No, he still lives, if you can call it living.”

The redhead followed her back inside and up the stairs, and into a room that she assumed was Randy’s. He lay on the bed, his eyes sunken in and looking older and more shrunken than she had ever seen him.

The distraught redhead sank onto the edge of his bed and picked up his hand, which seemed withered, almost as light as a bird’s wing. His eyes fluttered open, but slowly, as if it required almost more strength than he had.

“Randy,” Nicole said softly. “How do you feel?”

He tried to speak, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He licked his lips and glanced at Chrissy, then tried again. “Nic, Chrissy had told me you were taken by the Queen’s guards, but were living as a duke in the palace.”

“It is true, Randy. I am the Duke of Davis.” 

He smiled affectionately and gently squeezed her hand. The redhead looked at Chrissy and asked her, “How long has he been like this?”

“Just a few days, but he doesn’t seem to be getting any better.” The blonde looked fondly at her father, but Nicole saw the tears of fear and grief welling in her blue eyes.

The duke turned back to the bedridden man. “Get some rest, Randy, I will be back to check on you when I can.”

He smiled in response, but was already letting his eyelids droop closed.

Nicole walked with the blonde outside his room and she closed the door behind them. They stood in the hallway in silence, until she broke into sobs, and the redhead pulled her into a hug. She buried her head against the redhead’s strong shoulder, and nuzzled into her neck, her tears soaking through Nicole’s shirt. The duke held her as tightly as she could and just let her cry, but didn’t offer any empty words of consolation. It wasn’t what she needed right now.

Slowly Chrissy’s sobs subsided, and she placed a tender kiss on Nicole’s neck, followed by another, and another, as the blonde was softly kissing her way up her neck, her full lips dragging as she stamped kisses along the way.

“Chrissy,” Nicole started gently. “I can’t... I’m betrothed.” She swallowed hard as she uttered the words.

The blonde just kept kissing her way upwards, moving along the redhead’s jaw until she finally kissed Nicole on the mouth. When she didn’t reciprocate, she pulled away and looked her in the eyes, sadness welling in her beautiful blue orbs.

“Your betrothed… you love her, don’t you?” She asked sadly. It wasn’t accusatory, just resigned, which cracked Nicole’s heart just a little more.

“Yes, I think I do.” The redhead sighed and pressed her forehead against Chrissy’s, as the weight of all her lies grew too much.

“Does she know? That you are a…?” The blonde ducked her head to look into the redhead’s brown eyes.

“No, she does not. The Queen announced our betrothal as a way of allying my land with England. We haven’t…” Nicole coughed to cover up her embarrassment. “I am not quite sure how I will handle the wedding night.”

Chrissy just burrowed her face back against the redhead’s neck, breathing deeply, but evenly and Nicole kissed her hair softly. “Come downstairs with me, Chrissy. I need to tell you what to do for your father.”

Chrissy followed the redhead downstairs, and sat down at a table with her. Nicole pushed several crowns towards her. She started to protest, but the duke cut her off, “Take them, Chrissy, you and your father will need them with no one wanting to stay here with your father sick.” With a smile, she nodded and tucked them into her dress.

“From now on, you will boil every drop of water, you, your father, the horses, and any guests, drink. Boil it until it is at a running boil. Your father is sick from cholera, which is caused by dirty water. He will also need as much water as you can get him to drink. And make sure he eats to keep up his strength. He will need all of your love and care to survive this, but he _can_ survive this, understand?”

Chrissy nodded determinedly and kept gazing raptly into Nicole’s eyes. The redhead knew she was keeping a mental log of everything she said. 

“The biggest danger is that he will die from dehydration.” The blonde looked at Nicole blankly, so she elaborated, “Not having enough water in his body after being sick so often, so make sure when he is sick, he gets more water into him. I have somewhere to go but I will come back as soon as I can, I promise.”

She nodded again and stood up with Nicole and gave the tall redhead a fierce hug goodbye. Nicole followed it up with a soft goodbye kiss, which to Chrissy’s credit, she did not try and deepen. Then she ducked out the back door and untied Shadow to continue on their way.

Eventually Nicole passed out through the city gates, and was able to open Shadow up into a gallop. They flew along, and passed directly through the commons of Monchester. She waved at toothless John, and the baker, who clutching Nicole’s lighter in his hand, waved back. She arrived at the copse of bushes she had left her SUV hidden behind, and clicking the unlock button and her car beeped in response. She headed straight to the rear passenger door and opening it, found the package of pads she had tucked in the box of toiletries. Removing one, which she immediately put on, she stuffed the rest into her backpack, and downed a couple ibuprofen to counteract the cramps that were making stabbing though her. She also swapped out the book she had brought originally, but finished long ago, and stuck a new one in there, as well as a fresh tube of toothpaste and a brand new toothbrush. An idea as to how to get past the wedding night with Waverly was brewing, so she also grabbed a gift that had been a prank from her best friend. She was ready to go, but first she had to charge her phone a little, so climbing into the front seat, she plugged her phone into the charger, and turned her car on.

It almost didn’t catch, the battery was almost dead. The teen was going to have to make more of an effort to come out and turn it on for a while. She let it run for an hour, charging her phone, which had died the day before yesterday, because she was taking too many photos. _I’m going to have to take a selfie with the Queen sometime soon_ , Nicole chuckled to herself.

The redhead listened to her iPod, and it was nice; she almost could convince herself it was a normal day and she was just hanging out in the car, but when she looked out the window, the sun was high in the sky and Shadow was grazing on the grass around the SUV. Turning the car off, she shut and locked the doors, before climbing back on Shadow, and they took off, back towards London, back towards Whitehall, back towards Waverly.

When they arrived back at Whitehall, both Shadow and herself were sweating profusely. She tossed the reins to the groom who walked up and he led Shadow off to be brushed down and to his well deserved lunch of oats.

Nicole hurried through the corridors back to her rooms, which she was proud to notice she found by herself this time. James was waiting with her armor all polished.

“I was worried you would be late, Your Grace.”

“Sorry, James, I had to stop and visit a friend and her sick father.”

James passed Nicole the armor padding which she put on, and he immediately started strapping her into the armor. Soon she was metal-plated once again and he was hurriedly leading the redhead through the corridors. They emerged back out into the sunshine and Nicole could hear the cheering and clash of metal from the arena set up several hundred yards away. They hurried over, and the duke double-checked the lists. Her shield hadn’t come up yet according to the young man, but he did mention to James that the Lady Waverly had paid him to ensure her shield wouldn’t be called until she had a chance to make it to the arena. They were four bouts in, so Nicole’s shield was bound to come up soon. He also whispered to James that Hardy and his squire had been gossiping to anyone that would listen that the Duke Davis was scared and had been hiding.

Nicole set her jaw in anger, and strode off to give her respects and apologize to the Queen for being late. Entering the stands, she walked along to the Queen’s box. She went down on one knee in front of the Her Majesty and bowed her head. 

“Your Majesty, I apologize profusely for being late. I was visiting a friend whose father is very sick.”

“Not to worry, Your Grace. We believe your name is about to be called, however, so you had better get your favor from your betrothed.”

Nodding, she brushed her lips over the ring of state on Her Majesty’s extended hand.

Nicole then turned and got down on one knee in front of Waverly, and bowed her head, waiting for her blessing and her favor. The brunette placed her hand lightly on her copper locks in blessing, before gingerly pulled Nicole up. She placed her handkerchief in Nicole hand and kissed the duke lightly. 

“Thank you for making sure I wouldn’t miss a bout and face disqualification.” Nicole murmured against her soft, pink lips. The countess just nodded once, never breaking eye contact with warm brown eyes. Nicole mused that she could lose herself in those hazel eyes if she wasn’t careful.

Favor in hand, the teen walked back down the stands, just as the last bout ended, and Davis’ shield was lifted signaling the duke’s turn to fight a competitor.

Tucking the countess’ handkerchief into its customary spot just inside the chest plate of her armor, Nicole strode across to the ring set up, and James passed the duke her helmet and shield. The redhead climbed into the ring, and took a couple of practice swings to warm her arm up as a stocky, almost bull-like man climbed into the ring with her, with a sword that was practically as long as she was tall. She was going to have a hard time staying out of the reach of that sword, but she figured its length made it more unwieldy. They saluted each other and a hush of anticipation fell over the crowd.

Suddenly, he came running at Nicole swinging his sword at her left hip, she parried it lightly, and jumped past him, tapping him on the ass as he passed. The crowd cheered and a point flag was added next to Nicole’s shield. Only four more to go.

While the redhead was distracted looking at the flag and her shield, the Minotaur brought his sword around and smacked it hard against her arm. Luckily it was her left one, but it went dead from the elbow down, with pain rocketing up through her shoulder, and her numb fingers dropped her buckler. A point flag was added to his shield, but there weren’t as many cheers for him, even some boos and hisses. Apparently Davis was the crowd favorite, she liked that. Dancing away from a few more swings he took, she stepped in close and using the hilt of her sword, hit him with a resounding clang in the helmet. Two points for that hit. He swore and shook his head, swinging blindly at her, one swing Nicole couldn’t escape from fast enough and he glanced a blow across her leg. A point, and several boos and hisses for him. Three to two. Nicole had to win soon; she was getting tired, but if she was, he was more so, so she made him chase her all over the ring, soon realizing she could again close her left hand. Turning to face him, she started a barrage of swings with her sword, holding it two-handed, keeping a relentless pace, as his parries were gradually slowing. Finally the redhead caught him once across the stomach, and immediately after smacked his sword arm. Two points, bringing her up to five to two; she had won. Panting, sweaty, and red-faced, they saluted each other again and left the ring.

James poured water down Nicole’s throat and wiped her sweaty, red face off with a cool rag, just as he had with the joust. She sat watching the next two matches, until her shield went up again. This time she was up against another knight whose name the teen did not know, but he was tall, even taller than her, and used a single-handed sword. So he had speed, and reach, but not enough strength behind just one-handed swings. It was a fierce battle, but at the end of it, the redhead had won again, this time five to three. The match after that was much the same as the first one, with Nicole winning five to two.

The day passed quickly, with match after match and knight after knight getting eliminated. Then it was the final round, Davis’ shield went up, and the duke groaned when she saw who she would be fighting. Sir Hardy again. Taking a final swig of water from James, she spit before climbing into the ring. They saluted each other, very half-heartedly, and in the lull of silence right before the first move was made, the redhead heard a voice yell out “Go, Duke Nic!” She turned looking for the cheerer, hoping it was Waverly, but it was Stephanie. She turned back just in time to see a sword swinging at her out of the corner of her eye. She dropped into a crouch as it whistled over her head. Hardy was already swinging back around to make another pass, but Nicole stepped back and parried the second swing. He was as relentless as Nicole was during her first match, swing after swing; the redhead could barely parry them. She stepped in close and they grabbed each other, grappling.

“Stay away from Lady Stephanie!” He spit into Nicole’s face.

“Hardy, I do not even want her, I’m betrothed.” She growled back at him.

“You expect me to believe you don’t want to bed her?” He spat again.

 _I’ve never known what’s good for me_ , the teen chuckled to herself as she couldn’t resist pissing him off even more. “Well I haven’t yet, and it’s not that I haven’t had plenty of opportunities.” Nicole paused and with a rakish grin, continued, “Do you know she was even waiting for me in my bed, naked, last night? I had to send her back to her rooms, as I had my betrothed with me.”

He roared angrily, and shoved her away, then punched Nicole solidly in the face. Her helmet rang and she saw stars, but through the ringing she heard screams of anger, and booing and hissing amongst cries of outrage. She brought her sword up weakly to block a swing of his, and completely on accident, Nicole’s parry rebounded and hit him in the leg. A point for Davis. By then her head had cleared somewhat and she stepped in close, grappling again, and told him, “That is the only hit you will land on me, I swear it. And it didn’t even count for a point.”

Shoving him hard, she stepped back to bring her sword quickly around and hit his sword arm. Two points. A flurry of parries and swings ensued, but she got behind him and tapped him on the ass a fraction of a second before he could turn to block it. Three points. He roared in anger and charged the duke with his sword held straight out, and all the nimble redhead had to do was side step, and Nicole gave him a resounding smack on his helmet to make up for the ringing that was still going on in her ears. Two points for the head brought Nicole up to five points. Davis had won.

The crowd exploded into noise and motion, with cheers and people jumping up and down. She climbed out of the ring and James took her helmet as he passed Nicole the rag to wipe her face. As the duke handed it back to him, she saw James’s eyes look over Nicole shoulder and a look of terror cross his face. Shoving James off to the side, she spun around in time to see Hardy making another headlong charge towards Nicole with his sword extended. With a collective gasp, the crowd went silent as the duke waited until the last possible second to step in and grabbing his extended sword arm, used his own momentum to flip him over her shoulder, and flat on his back in the dust of the arena, before she kicked the sword from his relaxed grip. 

The crowd was silent for a half second more, and then erupted again into whistles and cheers, even louder than before.

The redhead walked past him and continued towards the Queen, but she was already standing up, with a look of fury suffusing her face. “ _What_ is the meaning of your actions, Sir Hardy?” She asked in a voice gone icy cold in anger.

Glancing behind herself, she saw Hardy was already struggling to his feet. He picked up his sword and went down on one knee in the dust, with his head bent in supplication.

“Your Majesty, please accept my most sincere apologies. I let my anger get the better of me, and I am ashamed to have dishonored your tournament.”

Her eyes flashed and she barked, “You will have to apologize to Lord Davis for the unwarranted, and frankly, _cowardly_ attack on his person.”

His eyes narrowed and one could almost hear his teeth grinding in rage, but he mumbled, “Please accept my apologies, Lord Davis. I should not have let my anger overcome me.”

The teen didn’t know what to say in response, so she just nodded, which seemed to be good enough for him and the Queen.

“You are forbidden from attending the feast tonight as punishment and we will have words about your decorum in recent days.” Her Majesty then looked away from Hardy, not even giving him permission to stand up and take his leave. “Once again, you impress us, Lord Davis. You performed very well today, as you did yesterday. Perhaps it truly is the Lady Waverly’s favor giving you luck.” _Was that a smirk on her face?_

“I will attribute it to her favor and good grace until the end of my days, Your Majesty.”

The Queen nodded, and Nicole saw the countess smiling proudly at the duke from just behind Her Majesty; as their eyes met, she winked and blew the redhead a kiss. The Queen passed a groom a purse of coins to bring to Nicole as her winnings and turned to address the assembled crowds. “The tournament is concluded for today! His Grace, the Duke of Davis, has won again! Let us retire to the banquet hall to feast and celebrate his victory!”

Cheers answered this announcement, and the crowds stood as one and began spilling out of the stands.

Weighing the purse in her hands, Nicole pulled out a crown and gave it James. His brown eyes went as big as the crown itself in wonder. “Your Grace! I cannot accept this!”

“Yes you can, James, you have served me faithfully, and will continue to do so, I hope.”

Apparently speechless for once, he nodded so forcefully, the duke worried his head would fall off.

“James, I am giving you and Grace the day off tomorrow. I want you to take her into the city, go to the market, buy her some flowers, or something pretty, and get a nice lunch and supper somewhere together.” Nicole winked at the flabbergasted young man.

He turned bright red and spluttered something unintelligible as a response, but she just patted him on the shoulder and sent him off to get her bath ready.

Nicole went back up to the stands, to offer her betrothed her arm and escort her back to the castle. Hardy must have decided he was allowed to get up, because the Queen was already gone, probably back off to the castle, as he was standing talking to Waverly.

The teen froze in place, not liking how close he was standing to the countess, who clearly wasn’t enjoying it either, because her shoulders were set back and she was ramrod straight, with her fists clenched behind her. Hardy looked over her shoulder and met Nicole’s narrowed brown eyes, and with a smirk, leaned in and swept a few strands of Waverly’s soft golden brown hair behind her ear, before whispering something in it.

The redhead felt white-hot anger and jealousy pour through her, filling her veins with an ice that burned. But it only lasted a moment, because the brunette, fed up with him and whatever he said, hauled back and slapped him.

The look of shock on his face had Nicole guffawing out loud, and Waverly spun around with a very pink face. It was adorable. But she still looked angry, and likely not entirely at Hardy. She stalked away from him towards Nicole and the redhead saw Hardy, Waverly’s handprint blooming across his cheek, looking very confused and angry that his ploy to make the duke jealous had apparently not worked. _Apparently, you’re not quite the Casanova you thought you were, Hardy._ Nicole kept laughing and Hardy stalked off, but not before seeing Waverly take the duke’s arm to lead her off to the castle.

Nicole kept chuckling to herself, swiping a tear of joy from her eye, and the countess had had enough. “What?! What is so funny, Lord Davis?!”

Pausing in the shade of a massive tree, and the redhead removed the brunette’s hand from her arm, and firmly pressed long thin fingers to her lips, staring into hazel eyes. The anger seemed to drain from them and pulled some of the mirth from brown ones. “Waverly, it’s ‘Nic,’ how many times do I have to tell you? Also, I was very impressed with that slap, but next time, keep your fist closed.” And with that, Nicole curled her fingers into the tiniest fist. “Now try punching into my hand. Go ahead.” The brunette gave Nicole a tiny hit, either to prevent hurting the duke or avoid embarrassing herself. “Again. Harder. Put your shoulder behind it, and turn your body to get more weight behind it.”

She did much better the second time, and Nicole closed her hand around Waverly’s fist. “Good job. Always try and put as much weight behind it as you can. You’ll do more damage that way.” The brunette smiled in triumph her eyes crinkling in good humor, but the smile slid from her face as she looked into melted chocolate eyes, which held a hunger in their depths, as she tugged the countess towards her using the fist Nicole still had a hold of. One tiny step and she was pressed up against the tall duke, Nicole’s other hand settling low on her back, pulling her tighter against her. “I really enjoyed last night, Waverly.” The redhead breathed softly, staring deep into her mesmerizing emerald eyes. The countess nodded in response, then stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her soft lips against Nicole’s.

It started much as it had the previous night. At first, a line of soft warmth against Nicole’s lips, but soon her lips were parted and the duke was breathing in Waverly’s intoxicating scent, tasting it against her tongue and she could not get enough. The kiss grew deeper, both absolutely lost to the outside world and pressing as flush as they could against each other, the brunette’s hands clutching Nicole’s neck and the redhead unconsciously kneading her hips in time to the teasing swipes of their tongues back and forth. Finally some accursed superhuman part of Nicole was able to pull away from those addicting lips. She leaned her forehead against Waverly’s, not daring to open her eyes, both trying to catch their breath.

“I guess this arranged marriage won’t be too bad?” Nicole breathed out.

“I assume not.” She chuckled, swiping her finger along the redhead’s kiss-swollen lips.

“I think I’m falling for you, Waves.” The duke whispered, and then immediately froze in fear. She waited with bated breath, hoping the brunette hadn’t heard, or if she had, wondering what she would say, what she was thinking.

“I believe I am falling for you, too, Nic.” She breathed out in response, a small smile on her lips. She ran the tip of her nose lightly up the bridge of the redhead’s and gave a soft kiss to Nicole’s forehead.

Beaming, the redhead opened her eyes, to find Waverly’s smile crinkling her sparkling eyes. They kissed twice more, fast, but firm, and then turned to continue our way back up the hill. The duke didn’t think she could be any happier as the brunette nuzzled her head into Nicole’s shoulder and squeezed her arm tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I went with the one on one sword bouts, but in reality another popular choice for tournaments was a melee. Essentially an absolute fucking free-for-all where everyone just attacked everyone until there was one man left standing (in Fencing there is a similar game called "Ring of Steel").


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone call for an itty bit of angst?

A bath and change of clothes later, Nicole was dressed in a green doublet with silver stitching. The tailor had looked at the duke like she was crazy when she asked if she was being sorted into Slytherin. The redhead even went so far as to use a tiny amount of hair wax to style her hair up, wanting to look her best for Waverly.

James led Nicole to the feast, and when she entered, the entire room stood up and applauded and cheered the duke along the whole way to her seat. Nicole’s face was flaming red, heating up in embarrassment as she bowed to the Queen and Waverly, who looked the duke up and down with her green eyes wide and lower lip pulled between her teeth, before the redhead took her customary seat on the Queen’s right hand.

Her Majesty stood up and announced, “Tomorrow will be a day of rest as the Lord has decreed, with the tournament recommencing the day after with the final being wrestling. Hopefully our lords and knights will be rested enough to give us a good show.” Nicole blanched at the thought of someone grabbing something that shouldn’t be there while grappling with her. “To end out our tournament, the day after the wrestling match there will be a bear-baiting event, followed by a masked ball. All are invited to attend; the chosen theme is a Bacchanal woodland forest rife with nymphs and gods of old, so dress accordingly.” A clamor of cheers and claps went up, as people immediately began discussing what they would wear to the dance.

The feast dragged on late into the night, with people disappearing slowly as they gave in to exhaustion. Nicole lost count after eight games of wine pong, even being cajoled into playing in two of them herself. The redhead was much more interested in talking with Her Majesty and Waverly. The Queen asked for more information about Davis, and the countess, now a veritable expert after the previous night’s drinking, helped Nicole fill her in on some of the technological advances and some quirks of society. The Queen listened raptly, interjecting every so often with a question, mentally cataloging every tidbit of information she felt could be useful. Eventually, however, Nicole noticed Waverly’s head was drooping, and she herself had had more wine than she should have, so the duke asked the brunette if she could escort her to her chambers and the countess tiredly nodded her assent.

Standing and bowing to the Queen, Waverly took a tight hold of Nicole’s arm, pressing herself in against the tall redhead’s side for support. But just as they exited the hall, she stopped.

“Are you all right, Waves?” The duke asked her, ducking her head to look worriedly into her eyes.

“Yes, yes,” she mumbled, blushing slightly. “I just forgot my handkerchief at the table.”

“I can go back and get it for you.” The redhead said quickly, and started off back towards the hall, but she jerked on Nicole’s arm.

“Nic, I am perfectly capable of going back for my own handkerchief. I will just be a moment.” She kissed Nicole’s cheek and let go of her arm.

The duke chuckled as she watched the countess head off back into the hall, and leaned against the wall as she waited for the brunette to return. A voice piped up at Nicole’s shoulder while she was watching Waverly’s hips sway side to side as she walked away. “You did very well during the tournament. My congratulations, Your Grace.”

The duke looked down, and it was Stephanie leaning against the wall as well, very close to Nicole’s shoulder, lightly playing her fingertips along the threading of her doublet.

“It makes me wonder if you are quite so talented at everything you do. I’d be very interested to find out. If you are leaving the feast and have no other plans, perhaps you wouldn’t mind helping me find out?” She placed her hand flat against the center of Nicole’s chest and worked it down her front. The redhead slapped a hand against Stephanie’s, holding it tight against her stomach to prevent her discovering what wasn’t in the duke’s pants.

“Lady Stephanie, I thank you for your kind words.” Nicole lifted Stephanie’s sweaty hand away from her front and brushed her lips over Stephanie’s knuckles. “But I am only waiting for my betrothed to escort her to her chambers. Then I’m going to bed. To sleep.” The teen rushed to add the last as an afterthought in case the blonde got any ideas.

Suddenly, with her other hand she pushed Nicole more firmly against the wall and pressed herself flush up against the duke, crushing her lips to the redhead’s, violently shoving her tongue between Nicole’s lips, tasting of chewed mint leaves and cloves in an attempt to freshen her breath. _Huh. Stephanie is stunning, but I’m just not feeling this. Damn, I really do love Waverly_. In Nicole’s shocked realization, it took her a fraction of a second too long to push the blonde away, as by the time her brain formulated the thought, Stephanie was ripped away from the duke.

“Oh, holy shit.” Nicole muttered. Waverly, fury swirling in her hazel eyes, brightening them as her face flushed in anger, had seen the kiss and was the one to pull Stephanie off of the redhead. Nicole smirked as she realized two girls were fighting over her for the first time, grin widening as she then realized Waverly cared enough about her to fight a bitch for her. The countess shoved Stephanie, who swiped at her face in retaliation.

The two women were screeching like banshees and while the feast was loud, someone was bound to overhear soon. They were scratching at each other, and pulling each other’s hair. To be honest, Nicole couldn’t tell who was doing what to whom, but she liked to think that Waverly was winning. Still the tall duke stepped in and separated them, even going so far as to lift Waverly and carry her a few steps from Stephanie.

“Nic, put me down! Put me down!” She screeched in Nicole’s ear and wriggled in her arms. So the redhead put her down, as it was either that or drop the brunette.

Stephanie, her face flushed and her blonde hair pulled free from her elaborate hairdo, was screeching insults at Waverly, so Nicole turned to her, “Lady Stephanie, I think it would be best if you left.”

Waverly calmed down when Nicole said that, and the duke made the mistake of relaxing, figuring the countess had given up on the fight, but as the duke turned back to face the brunette, she took two steps past the redhead, hauled her arm back, and keeping her fist clenched just like the teen had taught her, punched Stephanie right in the left eye.

“Shit!” Nicole yelped, and stepped forward, but Waverly was already storming away from them.

Looking at Stephanie on the floor, Nicole considered helping her up like the gentleman she was raised to be, but decided Waverly was more important. The redhead hurried off after Waverly, but she had already made a few turns in the maze of corridors and Nicole had lost her. Retracing her steps back to the scene of the fight, the duke found Stephanie was gone, so the redhead asked a passing servant to lead her to Nicole’s rooms, not quite sure where James had gotten off to.

Nicole got her answer as she found Grace on James’s lap in one of Nicole’s plush fireside chairs, locked in an epic battle of lips, so he had probably told her the good news about tomorrow’s vacation day. The duke coughed in embarrassment and they flew apart. Grace’s hands fluttered nervously over her disheveled blond hair and patted down her dress, blushing a brilliant red. James also blushed, his red hair sticking straight up from where Grace must have been running her hands through it, and sprang up from the chair but to his credit he held his tongue and stood perfectly at attention, awaiting his punishment.

“James, Grace,” Nicole coughed in surprise, and they both paled slightly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, and please, feel free to continue later, but I need James to lead me to the Lady Waverly’s chambers.”

With a nod to the duke and a quick glance to Grace, James led the worried redhead through the hallways and they arrived at Waverly’s door, where Nicole knocked and the countess’ maid answered the door. Seeing it was the duke, she stepped outside and closed the door firmly behind her.

“My lady is not feeling well and requested that she not be disturbed.” The maid told Nicole haughtily, disdain positively dripping from her arched brow.

 _Well crap, I guess Waverly had told her what happened_ , Nicole frowned at the thought.

“I need to see her. I have to explain something. She saw something that wasn’t what it looked like.”

The maid just turned her nose up at the duke, literally turned her nose up. “No one is to disturb her, Your Grace.”

“This is bullshit.” The redhead tried to step past the maid, but she got in her way and physically blocked the duke from the door. “Waverly! WAVERLY!” Nicole tried yelling.

The maid opened the door a crack to let herself back in and escape the duke, but it was enough for a cup to come flying out and smash against the wall just behind Nicole. _Damn, she has good aim_ , Nicole thought proudly. _I have it bad for this girl_.

“WAVERLY!” The duke tried one more time, but the door was shut firmly in her face by that time. More crashes against the other side of the door were the only answer Nicole received.

James looked on with a look of confusion and pity, which Nicole sighed dejectedly at.

“I have to talk to her, James. She saw something tonight that looked bad, but was not what it seemed.” Nicole blushed to the roots of her hair and mumbled, “The Lady Stephanie attacked me.” Coughing in embarrassment at James’ confused look, she amended her statement. “She kissed me, and before I could push her off, the countess had seen. She needs to know that I didn’t invite the kiss or respond at all.”

James, apparently now a wise man in the ways of love, patted the duke’s shoulder and said, “Just give her time, my lord. She will calm down and see sense.”

At her dejected nod, James led her back to her chambers. When they arrived, Grace was warming the sheets with a bed warmer. She waved the both of them out and climbed into bed pondering what James had said and deciding he was right, she would talk to the brunette tomorrow after she had had a chance to calm down.

Nicole visited Waverly’s chambers in the morning, but again, her maid rebuffed the duke. Then at mealtime, she tried to engage the brunette in conversation, even being so rude as to talk past the Queen, but the redhead just didn’t care, nothing was more important than Waverly. And still she just ignored the despondent duke.

By late afternoon Nicole had almost given up, so she decided to take a ride through the city and check up on Chrissy and Randy.

When she arrived at the inn, it was still empty, but Chrissy had been keeping it clean.

“Chrissy? Randy?” Nicole called out as she walked through the room.

The patter of footsteps preceded Chrissy as she flung herself to the railing at the top of the stairs. “Nic!” she exclaimed before flying down the stairs. She hurled herself into the redhead’s arms and hugged her tightly.

Afraid for the worst, Nicole hugged her back, listening to the blonde sob into her shoulder. The redhead kissed the blonde locks and asked the question she was dreading the answer to. With a clear of her throat, she husked, “Chrissy, is your father…?”

She beamed up into Nicole’s brown eyes with tears of joy streaming down her face. “No he’s not dead. He’s doing much better.” Grinning, the redhead swung her around joyfully.

Through her giggles, the blonde continued, “I can’t thank you enough for your advice. I’ve already told my neighbors about it, not only the sick ones, but the ones who haven’t gotten sick yet. They told their neighbors, and it has been passed all across the town through the gossip at market. Come, you must see him! And he wants to see you!”

The redhead set her down and Chrissy took her hand and led the duke up the stairs to the same room Randy had been in the last time she visited. He still looked pale, but he was sitting up, propped on some pillows, but up. He smiled when the two entered and stretched out his hand to take Nicole’s and press it to his lips.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ve been feeling much better and Chrissy tells me it is because of your advice. Apparently some of the neighbors are starting to get better, too.”

“It’s just ‘Nic’ to you, and you’ve no need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re getting better. You gave Chrissy and I quite the scare.”

“Did your land have a problem like this? Is that how you knew what to do?” Chrissy asked as she came up and sat on the edge of her father’s bed, taking his hand in her own and rubbing her thumb lightly over the back of it.

The redhead smiled at her, and responded, “We have had similar issues in the past, and my parents made sure I had medical training.”

Glancing back at Randy, Nicole noticed his blinks were becoming increasingly slower as his breaths deepened. Chrissy giggled and led the redhead by the hand out of her father’s room, quietly closing the door behind them. “Are you staying for a while, Nic?” At the duke’s nod, the blonde continued, “Can I ask you to help me tighten some of the beds? We finally have the time now with the inn empty, but my father’s strength is not restored enough to help.” The blonde’s blue eyes looking pleadingly up into Nicole’s brown ones, her bottom lip jutting out in a tiny pout until with a laugh, the redhead acquiesced in the face of such an entreaty. Chrissy’s grin showed her she had made the right choice, and rolling her eyes at her bleeding heart, the tall redhead followed her into the room that had been hers for those first two weeks in this foreign age. Nicole shucked her doublet, and rolled up the sleeves of her cotton undershirt as she watched Chrissy heave the straw-filled mattress from the wooden bedframe pushed flush against the left wall. The teen watched in fascination as Chrissy tilted it against the wall and proceeded to check the stitching holding it together, pulling some lengths tighter, before grabbing a stick and beating the mattress. A cloud of dust, and dead skin cells, puffed out of the mattress with each hit until several smacks later, there was little to no dust billowing out.

Face flushed with the effort, Chrissy swiped her forearm across her brow to wipe away the accumulated sweat, and turned her attention to the bedframe. Nicole took her first close look at the bedframe and was surprised by what she saw. It was a simple wooden frame, raised a foot or so from the floor, but what the mattress had been resting on was a series of interwoven ropes stretched from one edge of the frame to the other. The teen noticed two ropes in the center, right where the butt and hips would be while laying down, were sagging a bit more than the rest.

“So the ropes support the mattress, but over time the ropes get loose, like these two in the center, so they need to be tightened so our guests don’t complain of back pain when they stay with us.” Chrissy huffed out as she leant over to tug on one of the sagging ropes. “So we tighten and re-knot the rope, like so,” she grunted with effort as she pulled the rope taut and quickly knotted it in place on the frame. “And our guests can sleep tight.” Nodding, Nicole reached down to the other sagging rope as Chrissy tugged on the others to ensure they wouldn’t loosen anytime soon. The redhead grunted as she pulled tight on the rope in her hand, and tied the knot to attach it to the frame. Grinning at the duke, the blonde gave a quick nod of approval, and the two settled the straw mattress back on the frame and moved on to repeat the process in the next room.

This one had a much larger bed, also shoved flush against the left wall. Nicole strode over to tug the bedframe away from the wall to access the mattress from the other side, but stopped at Chrissy’s gasp of horror. “No no, Nic! The bed has to stay against the wall so no one can enter or exit from the left side of the bed. The left side is evil, and people who wake up on the wrong side of the bed are prone to bad moods and bad luck for the day.” The blonde nudged the bedframe back against the wall, and tugged the mattress off to beat and check for loose stitches. Nicole’s brown eyes were wide at the superstition prevalent in this time period, but then she grinned at the recognition of two common phrases from back home. ‘ _Wrong side of the bed’ and ‘sleep tight’. Ha. Guess those make sense now_. Chuckling to herself, the redhead checked the ropes, and finding four loose, tugged them tight. She helped the blonde put the bigger mattress back on the larger bed as Chrissy explained it was a shared bed for those looking for cheaper accommodations at the inn; they shared a bed with a stranger and followed an unwritten set of rules and manners for sharing, ie ‘stay on your half’ and ‘try not to fart,’ etc.

After about an hour, they had beat and tightened every mattress in the inn, except for Randy’s, so they checked on the ailing man and Chrissy prepared them all a wonderful lunch of soup for her father, and some bread, chicken, and cheese for the former lovers.

After lunch, the duke went up to say goodbye to Randy. He squeezed her hand and with tears in his eyes. She told him she would be by to visit again soon, before Chrissy led Nicole downstairs and gave her a tight hug goodbye.

“Chrissy, when your father is up and walking around, take the yellow rag out of the window. We have to get some customers in here, and they’ll take heart from the fact that your father is better. Also make it known that you’re following the precautions to make sure none of your guests get sick. You might be the only place in town where people can eat and drink safely.”

The blonde nodded, and with a smile on her face, stood on her tiptoes to give the redhead a quick kiss on her cheek. Nicole smiled at her, giving her a big hug one more time, and stepped out into the stables to mount Shadow and turn him back towards Whitehall.

Arriving back at the palace, Nicole directed Shadow towards the stables and started brushing him down while he drank his fill of the water in the trough as the redhead eyed it warily wondering if this water was tainted, too, and if so, if horses could catch cholera. She was just finishing up when a page came running up to the duke.

“Your Grace! Someone mentioned they saw you arrive. Her Majesty has requested your presence in her chambers.”

The duke tossed the brush to a groom standing nearby and he deftly caught it and began to lead Shadow into the stables. She turned back to the page who was already starting to walk back towards the palace. Nicole lengthened her stride and caught up to him within a few steps.

“Any word on what it’s about?” Nicole asked him.

He was panting from his run, but managed to reply, “No, Your Grace, but I do know that Lady Waverly was summoned as well, so maybe to discuss the marriage arrangements.”

The redhead’s heart leapt. Waverly wouldn’t easily avoid her in the Queen’s chambers.

Head still swimming with what to say to Waverly, they reached the Queen’s door, nodding at her waiting groom as he went in and left Nicole standing outside alone, the page had slipped off somewhere, while the groom announced, “His Grace, Lord Nic, Duke of Davis.”

Receiving the go ahead, the groom popped outside and pushed the door wide for the duke to enter.

Nicole walked in, and her brain immediately stopped everything it was trying to do. Waverly was just as heart-rendingly beautiful as ever, her sandy brown hair done up and held in place with a silver net, her straight, aquiline nose lifted slightly in the air, but she wouldn’t turn nor rise to meet the redhead. Nicole recognized it as the snub it was, her face falling in hurt, and the Queen gave the brunette a look, but quickly shifted her attention back to the duke as she bowed deeply and waited for permission to sit.

“Have a seat, Davis.” The Queen gestured to the chair next to Waverly, who stiffened when Nicole sat in it, leaning away from the duke. Her Majesty gave them both a look, then swept out a long piece of paper and a quill. “We’ve had this drawn up, and it needs your signatures. It is the treaty and marriage certificate for you two, to join our two lands in alliance and harmony.”

Waverly stood up quickly, angry tears swirling in those green depths. “I cannot sign it, Your Majesty. I cannot do this, not with him. I beg your leave.” And with that she curtseyed, and turned in an attempt to leave, but she hadn’t even made it halfway across the room before the Queen called her sternly.

“Countess Devonshire!” She barked and Waverly halted midstep. “Come back here, and sit at once. We seem to have missed something. What happened between the betrothal announcement and now?”

Waverly sat down with a huff. “Ask him!” She pouted as she crossed her arms petulantly.

Her Majesty looked at Nicole expectantly with one eyebrow raised in question. Clearing her throat, the redhead began, “Your Majesty, I think I know what happened. The second night of the tournament…” but the duke didn’t get a chance to finish because the countess interrupted angrily.

“I caught him in the hallway outside the great hall, wrapped around Lady Stephanie… kissing! The night after our own betrothal feast! It was humiliating!” She screeched.

“Your Majesty, I didn’t initiate it. She attacked me and it took me by surprise, and by the time I went to push her off me, Lady Devonshire had seen and assumed the worst. I have absolutely no interest in Lady Stephanie.”

“Then why was she naked in your bed the other night?!” The brunette sniped at the duke.

At that, Her Majesty raised both eyebrows, wide-eyed in shock, clearly enjoying this medieval soap opera.

Nicole blushed fiercely and mumbled. “I believe she was trying to seduce me.”

The Queen interjected, trying to placate Waverly, “The Lady Stephanie is well known for throwing herself at every newcomer to court, man or woman.” Nicole glanced sharply at the Queen at that remark. “Oh yes, Davis, unofficially I don’t judge if a woman sleeps with another woman. Officially, of course, we never speak of it.”

The duke looked back at the brunette and continued on, “I have never encouraged her. I have no interest in her, Waverly.”

“Every man considers it! No man says ‘no’ to Lady Stephanie.” Waverly sneered at the redhead.

“Damnit, woman!” Nicole snapped, pushing herself out of the seat and standing up. “My heart already belongs to another!”

“Someone you left behind in Davis, then? Or is it the blonde woman from the gate?” She snapped back, hot tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“No, Waverly! It’s you! I love you!” Nicole yelled at her, frustrated that she didn’t get it. But with a flash of understanding, she realized she had never told her, so the redhead dropped her voice to a normal tone and said, “ _You_ have my heart. You, it’s always been you.” With a smile, Nicole met her startled hazel eyes, trying to convey the fervency of her feelings for the brunette.

The countess seemed bewildered, and for once speechless. The Queen sat back with a smug little smile on her face, but Waverly just stared into Nicole’s brown eyes. The tall duke knelt on one knee in front of her, and wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks, then very gently, she leaned in and kissed the very edge of the brunette’s left eyebrow, taking a hearty whiff of her scent. She pulled slowly away, and looked into her beautiful green eyes. The countess had stopped crying but those hazel orbs were still swimming with emotion.

“All right,” she sniffled, still staring into Nicole’s eyes, and taking her calloused hands in her soft ones, but warned the duke, “But if I ever see her so much as look at you again, it will not be pretty.”

Her Majesty cleared her throat behind the couple, and Waverly colored in embarrassment. Nicole turned and sat back down in her chair, but kept hold of the brunette’s left hand, her thumb soothingly stroking the side of it. The Queen’s eyes were full of mirth when she said, “So we are now agreed? Can we get this signed and go into supper?”

The duke signed first, and the countess signed second, before grabbing the redhead’s hand to hold it again while the Queen finished it off with her signature. _What am I going to do when the Queen wants to establish trade? My SUV only has so many things stuffed into it_ , Nicole worried.

They went into supper, and Waverly held Nicole’s hand through all of the corridors and only dropped it to eat during the feast. At the end, the Queen stood up and announced that the treaty had been signed and the wedding was planned for one week hence. With a squeal, all of the Queen’s ladies jumped up and circled Waverly, who was smiling and laughing along with them. She was breathtaking when she was happy; her cheeks pinked up and her green eyes squinted as her whole face lit up in the most adorable way.

Nicole was still admiring her when she felt someone sidle up beside her. Turning to greet whomever it was, she was met by… none other than Lady Stephanie herself. The redhead immediately took a step back and then another to put some distance between them, but the blonde followed the duke; stepping forward for every one of Nicole’s steps back, like an uncomfortable dance. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss, my Lord Davis.” She simpered. “I was hoping we could continue it later?” She batted her eyelashes over those dull brown eyes, the shiner Waverly gave her still a dark purple bag under her left eye.

“Lady Stephanie, I’m sorry if somehow I gave you the impression that I was interested, but I’m sorry, I’m not. I love my betrothe-”

Nicole didn’t get to finish the last word because Waverly slipped between them, and just as the redhead’s blood began to turn to ice with fear of what she might think was happening, the brunette put her arms around her redhead’s neck and pulled Nicole down for a deep kiss. Instantly, the world stopped for them. Nothing existed outside of that moment, the feeling of the countess’ soft lips moving on hers, and her fingers tangled in Nicole’s red hair, her warmth as she stepped closer into the tall duke, and above all her _smell_ , God, Nicole _loved_ her smell. Waverly licked her way into Nicole’s mouth in the most sinful and sexy way, and the duke gasped in pure delight, her tongue reaching to brush along the brunette’s aching to taste as much of her as she could.

She was the sun. Nicole’s world revolved around her, and without her, there was no light, no warmth, no life.

It felt like an eternity, but it must have been only a few seconds, before they came to with the beating of cups on tables and cheers and shouts. Pulling away, Waverly blushed adorably, not one for PDA, but held onto Nicole’s arm, ducking into the duke’s shoulder. The redhead caught a glimpse of Lady Stephanie’s face as she stormed away in shame, bright red, but not adorable as Waverly had been. No, Stephanie turned blotchy with anger and shame.

Taking their leave of the hall, Nicole escorted Waverly to her chambers, and the couple said their adieus with a few more passionate kisses, before, a little disheveled and panting, they separated and the brunette retired to her rooms for the night. The redhead rounded the first corner after leaving the countess’ rooms, where there were two men loitering against the wall, and with a polite nod to each, Nicole stepped past to walk around them. Her mind was still on Waverly and how very soft and warm her lips and tongue were, so the duke didn’t see the punch coming. It caught her right on the cheekbone and a flash of pain shot through her face along with a flash of light blinding her eye momentarily. Staggering backwards, she put her hand up to her face, as he caught a punch to the ribs that doubled her over. The redhead caught the kick that was coming up towards her face, and yanked the attacker off balance. He staggered into the punch the second guy was throwing at Nicole’s unprotected kidney. Straightening up, she blinked the tears out of her hurt eye, but adrenaline had already made the pain a faint memory. The duke heard a gasp and out of the corner of her unhurt eye, the redhead saw a maid she didn’t recognize drop her load of laundry and run down the hallway, presumably for help. Hopefully for help.

The one who had tried to kick Nicole was in a blue doublet, while the one whose punch he interrupted was in a lurid yellow one. Blue recovered first and took another swing. The redhead batted his punch out to the side, and brought her knee up sharply into his groin. With a groan he doubled over and the teen shoved him backwards onto his ass. Again he tripped up Yellow who stepped hard on Blue’s shin and stumbled forward. She clocked him on the side of the head and grabbed a fistful of his doublet and pulled him forward, continuing his momentum face-forward straight into the wall. Immediately, his nose broke and blood started flowing down his face, dripping onto his terrible yellow doublet, staining it orange-brown.

Right then there was the pounding of boots and clanking of swords as three of the Queen’s guards came running around the corner followed by the maid. Glancing over the scene, they yanked the two attackers up and marched them off down the corridor making quite a commotion.

“Nic!” The redhead heard a yell from behind her, and Waverly came running around the corner from her rooms in her night-gown with an overcoat on top for decency while her aggrieved maid stood behind.

The brunette slammed into Nicole with a fierce hug, which knocked the breath out of her in an “Oof!”

“Sorry!” she apologized with tears in her eyes and stepped back, giving the redhead space to put her hand protectively on what she hoped were very bruised, but not broken, ribs.

“Don’t worry, Waves, it wasn’t you. One of the fiends got in a lucky side shot.” Nicole dusted several soft, reassuring kisses over her brow and swiped the tears from her cheeks.

The countess didn’t respond, just reached up with a shaking hand and tenderly brushed her cool finger over the redhead’s hot cheekbone and the duke hissed in pain. It hurt. In fact, with everything calming down and the adrenaline leaving Nicole’s body, everything hurt.

“I will be okay, love.” The redhead took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. “Go back to bed, I will see you in the morning.” She kissed the brunette again, on the lips this time, but just as softly, and sent her back to her waiting maid who bundled her back into the safety and privacy of her rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the superfluous bit about bedframes and mattresses, but as a sales exec for a mattress corporation, the little bit of my history degrees I get to use is nerding out about beds in bygone ages.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! No animals were harmed in the making of this chapter, but unfortunately they certainly were in the Middle Ages in Europe. This chapter features a bear-baiting event, a popular event, especially in Tudor England. I tried to keep it as historically accurate as possible, but as such it is described in a pretty gruesome way, so this is trigger warning regarding graphic depictions of animal cruelty. If it gets to be too much, skip ahead to the page-break lines to end on a bit of fluff.

It turned out that the attackers, Peter and Kyle York, were good friends of Sir Hardy’s who felt Nicole needed to be taught a lesson for humiliating their friend, but they were now lounging uncomfortably in Whitehall’s jail awaiting the Queen’s wrathful punishment. The next morning was the final day of the tournament and featured wrestling. There was no way the duke was going to maintain the disguise of a boy if men were wrestling with her and feeling things that shouldn’t be there, and not feeling things that should be. So the redhead excused herself from that portion of the tournament stating that she needed to heal from the attack the previous night. Hardy sneered and called Nicole a coward, to which his group of friends laughed. Hardy won the day, and sat in place of honor next to the Queen at the feast. The duke was too engrossed in Waverly to care, but from the glances she could spare, the Queen seemed bored out of her mind. Hardy of course was insufferable and his head got even bigger with that one victory.

The feast that night in Hardy’s honor was a more subdued affair than usual, but the undercurrent of excitement for the ball the following night could be heard in the murmurs and giggles as ladies compared their dress choices, and the men discussed who they hoped to dance with. Waverly and Nicole spent almost the entire supper talking more about her childhood, as well as Nicole’s.

“I hope Your Grace saves all of your dances for me.” The countess raised an eyebrow, daring the redhead to disagree.

With a shock the teen realized she didn’t actually know any of the dances from this time. Brushing her fingers lightly along the knuckles of the soft hand she held in her now sweaty grip, Nicole mentioned, “It would of course be my pleasure, but I’m afraid I don’t know any of the dances of this land.”

The brunette blinked in surprise, but with a sad smile, squeezed Nicole’s hand reassuringly, “Of course, Nic. I must admit I completely forgot, but of course you would not know them.” She looked crestfallen. “Shame, as I sincerely love to dance.”

The redhead squeezed Waverly’s hand and, waggling her eyebrows at the innuendo, asked, “Perhaps, after supper, you can show me a few steps in the privacy of your rooms?” The duke couldn’t help smiling in response at the beaming grin and light blush the brunette gave Nicole as she nodded her assent. After they left Hardy’s sad little victory feast, they went straight to the countess’ rooms, to teach Nicole the moves to some popular dances. A couple hours of giggles and sore toes later and the duke was fairly comfortable with the footwork to a couple of the popular dances of the era, but the true test would be tomorrow night. It was very late as the redhead made her way back to her rooms and collapsed in exhaustion in bed.

She was awoken early the next day by a cacophony of hammering, sawing, and shouts as workmen toiled diligently to transform the largest hall into a faerie wood. Nicole dressed and went to escort Waverly down to the bear-baiting event the Queen had arranged. The couple walked down the lawn with several other courtiers to the wrestling ring from yesterday, which had been converted with minimal effort into a bear-baiting ring. The viewing stands were arranged around the square, with a special box for the Queen and her favorites, and in the very center of the square was a large post driven deep into the ground with a moderately sized bear asleep and chained to it by a thick chain attached to a collar around its neck. The two conversed animatedly with the other ladies-in-waiting in Her Majesty’s box as they waited for the Queen to arrive. Accompanied by a fanfare that violently startled the bear awake, the Queen swept in and everyone rose and bowed or curtseyed until she took her seat. With the wave of her arm, the event commenced as a group of five large dogs were released into the square. Immediately, with a chorus of barks and growls, they began circling and nipping the bear. The bear in part roared in pain and anger and swiped at the dogs as they darted in to take bites. A queasiness was settling into Nicole’s stomach, and glancing at Waverly, whose hand was desperately clenching hers, the redhead saw a similar look on her slightly green face. The duke’s attention was diverted back to the fight as with a yelp, she saw the bear had finally caught a dog on the side, its vicious claws swiping it across the flank, the afflicted dog limping away from the fight. The bear’s fur was becoming matted with blood from all the bites the dogs had landed and its roars were getting quieter in its exhaustion. The teen swallowed down some bile that threatened to rise, and glanced again at the countess, who now had her eyes clenched tightly shut. Pulling the brunette tighter into her side, Nicole wrapped her arm around the trembling Waverly as she ducked her head into the redhead’s shoulder. As they attempted to console each other, the duke glanced around and saw the majority of the spectators laughing and placing bets with each other as pages circled with goblets of water and wine as well as some small snacks. The Queen herself was laughing and applauding, her bright eyes devouring the entire event, clapping with each bite a dog managed to land. Nicole was instantly reminded anew of the danger she was in, pretending to be two things she’s not in this merciless time. The sharp coppery tang of blood and the crowd’s bloodlust assailed Nicole’s nostrils, so she pressed a kiss into Waverly’s hair, leaving her nose pressed deep into the lavender scented waves of golden brown as she inhaled, and the brunette nuzzled deeper into Nicole’s shoulder in response.

After what seemed like hours, the event was over, the bear lying on the ground, its blood pooling in the dust as it sucked in one laborious breath after another. The dogs that had survived seemed bored with their quarry and had limped off to lick their wounds. The Queen clapped loudly and announced that they could now all proceed back up to the palace to get ready for the masked ball. Waverly sniffled and wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, as she stood and together they followed the Queen back up to the palace in a sea of laughing and joking courtiers discussing their various bets and the fight. The couple parted somberly outside the countess’ rooms, as with only a couple kisses to the brunette’s temple and one soft one to her lips, Nicole left her in the care of her maid.

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The redhead found lunch waiting for her in the antechamber, but found she had absolutely no appetite after that spectacle, so she downed her goblet of wine, and continued into her bedroom to freshen up and change for tonight. Nicole had asked Grace to lay out an appropriate outfit from the duke’s limited stock of doublets. She had chosen a forest green crushed velvet with black slashed sleeves and silver stitching, and to complete it there was a simple matching black and green cloth mask to cover from her eyebrows to her cheekbones and most of her nose, with holes cut out for her eyes. Nicole bathed the dust from earlier off in her ablutions bowl and brushed her teeth, reapplied deodorant as well as some hairwax and a short while later, she was dressed in her outfit, and tying the mask on in her burnished silver mirror. She emerged into her outer room and James grinned at the duke puckishly before leading her along towards the converted hall with an excited skip in his step.

The redhead’s breath was stolen right out of her by what had been accomplished by the talented workmen in the court’s absence. There were hundreds of “trees” erected from wood, paper, and cloth all throughout the hall with a small “clearing” in the center for people to mingle and dance in. Shadows fluttered and danced throughout the hall as the light cast by dozens of torches and candles were buffeted as people scampered past, giggling in their excitement. Musicians were on a dais in a corner, playing a lively song as people slowly continued filling the room. Several tables, groaning under the weight of platters of food and jugs of wine and ale were scattered throughout the room as people in a variety of colors and elaborate masks circulated; laughing, talking, sampling food and drinks, flirting with impunity behind the identity-concealing masks. The redhead now saw the reason for the undercurrent of fervent excitement that had pervaded the court since the Queen’s announcement. A masked ball allowed the various levels of courtier hierarchy to be blended and one could flirt and joke and dance with others from above, or below, their own station with impunity and no risk of scandal.

Nicole found herself at a table, finally having found her appetite, snacking on figs drizzled in honey and crushed nuts, and slaking her thirst with a goblet of watered down wine. She was thankful for her watered down wine and subsequent level head as a woman sidled up alongside, reaching to snag Nicole’s hand and guide the fig in it to her waiting mouth. The redhead was frozen in shock as, mirth dancing in her kohl-lidded eyes behind her green and silver mask, she closed her lips around Nicole’s fingers and took the fig, the hormonal teen’s eyes fluttering in pleasure as the woman daintily licked and sucked Nicole’s fingers free of the honey. The duke snapped out of it, and with a polite smile, pulled her fingers free and attempted to step back, glancing around for an exit. The woman stepped with her, however, and placed her long, cool fingers tenderly against Nicole’s jaw, the other hand running around to the back of the redhead’s neck. It was her fingers playing in the curly hair at the back of Nicole’s head that made her pause in familiarity. “Waves?” She queried, leaning in to see if she could recognize the woman’s eyes. The woman didn’t respond, and smiled instead, pulling the duke in close enough to press her full pink lips to hers. Woodenly, the teen didn’t respond until the woman opened her mouth to swipe her tongue just barely against the seam of the redhead’s lips. Nicole breathed deeply, and pulling that familiar scent into her nose and mouth, her lungs expanded painfully, needing more of that life-giving breath. The duke pressed into her, her hands gripping the woman’s waist, meeting her honeyed tongue with her own, and her fingers scratched lightly at the back of the redhead’s neck, tangling into Nicole’s copper locks. They broke the kiss after a few moments, and Nicole grinned at the brunette, kneading her hands into the muscles of her lower back as her kohl-lidded eyes fluttered closed and she let out a miniscule moan at Nicole’s attentions. Her hazel eyes snapped open in shock at the sound that just came out of her mouth and she grinned back at the redhead, eyes crinkling in mirth. “Waverly, I’m so glad that’s you. I was worried it was Stephanie hiding behind a mask.”

“I certainly hope it would not get this far if it were indeed her, but I admit I’m pleased you recognized me from my kiss.” She winked at the duke, her fingers still lightly playing with the curls at the back of Nicole’s neck.

“Darling, you look amazing,” Nicole told her in awe, finally taking a moment to appreciate her dress. It was a matching forest green crushed velvet with black skirts and silver stitching. “How did you know what colors to match?”

“Grace spied for me and passed the info back to my maid. Now, can I get you to put those dance lessons to good use and ask me to dance?” Kissing the brunette again, Nicole took her hand from her jaw and led the countess to where others were lining up for a dance. The musicians started playing a jaunty tune, and the women skipped towards the men, and the dance was underway. The duke struggled to remember her footwork, and only made a couple of missteps as Waverly beamed at Nicole in pride and happiness at dancing. With a flourish, the song ended and the dancers and assembled watchers clapped. The brunette took Nicole’s arm and guided the duke off to grab a refreshing drink of water. They passed the rest of the night alternating between dancing and talking with others, before the couple excused themselves from the ball in exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the baby chapter. My intention was to post two at once to make up for it, but then I realized next chapter is the WayHaught wedding! So I guess I'll make you all wait a bit for that :P


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, ya'll. Let's go to a wedding! Now please be gentle, absolutely NOT an expert in writing smut, but did my damnedest. Even practiced with my wife to be sure it was feasible... you know, for research. >.> So here's your warning that this chapter is NSFW.

The next five days passed in a blur of being fitted for her wedding outfit, and Waverly had an even busier time than the duke. But they still managed to spend a few hours every night together, talking about their pasts, their hopes, and their dreams. Sometimes it was just passing along the gossip of the court for the day. The brunette was so easy to be with, but sometimes Nicole just couldn’t help herself from staring in awe at her radiance.

Finally, the day of the wedding dawned. The redhead woke up and just lay in bed, grinning at the canopy above her, which in her mind’s eye, was showing her wonderful pictures of Waverly and Nicole married. A few minutes of happiness, were suddenly cut short when she realized she still had no idea how she was going to overcome the trial of the wedding night. _Should I just tell Waverly? But what if she hates me for waiting until after we were married? Should I do it before? But what if she outs me? Well I guess she could out me anyways_ , the redhead’s mind was whirling in confusion and worry.

Grace and James knocked and entered while Nicole was still frowning at the canopy.

“Your Grace! Why do you look so somber? Today is your weddin’ day!” Grace exclaimed as she set the duke’s breakfast down on the table. “You’re marryin’ the Lady Waverly!”

“Yes, Your Grace! She’s a beautiful one at that! You’re a very lucky man!” James chimed in, excitement for Nicole sparkling bright in his mahogany eyes.

Grace made an angry noise, eyebrows furrowing over stormy blue orbs, and James immediately colored and continued, “Well, she’s beautiful in some people’s eyes. Not my type, not at all. Nope.”

Their antics made Nicole smile, and she sat up in bed. “I am a very lucky man to be marrying the Lady Waverly today. She _is_ beautiful, and definitely my type,” The duke winked at James who was still as red as his hair, and pointedly being ignored by Grace as she busied herself readying Nicole’s repast. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

They both bowed and curtseyed their way out and shut the door behind them, James scurrying to catch up with Grace’s quick pace. Nicole got up and ate her breakfast, then brushed her teeth, and when everything she could do to procrastinate had been done, she turned to look at the wedding outfit that Grace had laid out on a chair.

With a deep breath, she picked it up and began putting it on. When she was done, she glanced in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize herself. It was an ivory colored doublet, with cloth of gold showing through the slashed sleeves, and gold trim, and she looked resplendent. The drawback was the blue and green bruise courtesy of the suckerpunch the other night, spreading across her cheekbone and pooling under her eye making Nicole look like half of a raccoon. She pulled some concealer out of her backpack and applied it lightly. It made it less stark, but it was still definitely a shiner.

James and Grace knocked and when the duke announced that they could come in, stuck their heads around the door. She didn’t turn to face them immediately, but she saw their gaping faces in the mirror. 

At that point, the redhead did turn and face them, and spread out her arms, “Well, how do I look?”

They both beamed, and stammered over each other, but the gist of it was that she looked good.

James seemed to come to himself first. He stood straighter and announced, “Your Grace, Her Majesty, the Queen, has asked that you join her before the wedding. She has something to go over with you. I’ll lead you there now if you are ready.”

The redhead nodded her approval and started out after James, winking at Grace as she passed her to which the blonde smiled back with a blush.

As they walked through the hallways, Nicole wondered what the Queen could want. Probably amending something to the treaty, or something like that.

They reached the Queen’s chambers and after duke was announced and bowed to Her Majesty, she waved the redhead to a seat in front of her. The very seat she’d sat in just days ago when the Queen had told Waverly and Nicole that they were to be married.

“Your Grace,” she began solemnly. “Congratulations on your nuptials today. We are very pleased for you and the Lady Waverly, as well as for what it means for our two countries.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“We would like to give you an early wedding gift. Here.” And with that she pushed a parchment with the royal seal that hadn’t even finished drying yet, towards the redhead.

Glancing at the top and the first sentence made her gasp in shock. It was a letter of creation!

“Y-Your Majesty,” Nicole stammered.

“Henceforward, you will be the Duke of York, and along with that title we are granting you a manor outside of London, close enough to still advise us, but so that you and the Lady Waverly can have your privacy.”

“Your Majesty, this is a great honor.” The newly-created Duke of York bowed deeply. “I hope to do honor to you, to the title, to York, and of course to my wife-to-be.”

Her Majesty smiled a tiny smile, but in a flash she was the stately Queen again. “Now go, you have a wedding to prepare for.” And she waved Nicole off imperiously.

However, it turns out that the duke didn’t have much to do. She just sat in her room reading for most of the day after fixing her hair with some hair wax.

Eventually there came a knock at the door, and James stuck his head inside.

“Your Grace, it is time.” He said with a giant smile on his face.

Nicole had to clench her jaw to stop the nervous chatter that was about to start. She set the book down on the table, stood up and brushed down her doublet, and followed James out into the hall. The entire time he led the duke down the hallways, he had this shit-eating grin on his face, and the few people they passed, stepped aside and bowed with smiles.

They reached the cathedral and standing with her back to the redhead, speaking to Grace was Waverly in a white gown, pearls sewn into the bodice and gold thread peeping through, and the longest train Nicole had ever seen. Grace’s eyes met Nicole’s over the brunette’s shoulder and the redhead saw her eyes widen and her mouth make a slight “o”. She smiled even bigger and managed a wink at her, just before Waverly turned to see what she was looking at.

As soon as the countess turned to face the duke, the smile slipped off Nicole’s face and she stood dumbstruck staring at the radiant vision in front of her. The brunette’s big, beautiful eyes were smiling at Nicole through the lacy veil, radiant emerald depths shining through the gauzy film, and the redhead found the grin returning to her face, and tears springing to her eyes. Nicole was marrying the sweetest, smartest, heaviest-handed, most breathtaking woman in the world.

James cleared his throat and nodded towards the big wooden double doors leading into the cathedral and the herald standing at attention beside them. The duke offered Waverly her arm, and nodded at the herald who slammed his big, brass staff against the stone floor twice. The ensuing rings stopped the chatter of noise the redhead hadn’t even registered was there on the other side of the doors, and then the music began.

The couple managed one final, shy glance at one another before the doors swung slowly open and they entered the cathedral.

There must have been three hundred people cramped into a cathedral Nicole had thought was plenty big before, but now felt stifling. Each slow, measured step down the aisle felt like it took a lifetime, as the redhead concentrated deeply on not tripping. But just like at her high school graduation, she was so focused on not tripping that the whole thing was over in the blink of an eye and Nicole couldn’t remember any of it.

The couple knelt down together on a padded cushion on the stair before the altar and the priest and bowed their heads as he began by listing the duke’s name and titles, including her new one of Duke of York, at which Nicole saw out of the corner of her eye, Waverly jerk in surprise and glance at the redhead, so she grinned at her knees. Then he listed the countess’ name and title, and proceeded to drone on about the sanctity of marriage and quoting bible verses. _I think we’ve been kneeling for hours. Do I even still have knees? Should I check? Oh God, Waves can’t ever find out I was daydreaming at our_ wedding, Nicole was broken out of her thoughts as the priest announced Lord Nic and Lady Waverly, Duke and Duchess of Davis and York, Earl and Countess of Devonshire. He called for the ring, and Nicole looked in panic at her bride as they stood and faced each other. _I didn’t bring a ring! Was that my duty?!_ Nicole’s brown eyes pleaded with Waverly’s to understand, but she just smiled, eyes crinkling in humor, and nodded at James as stepped up with a ring on a tiny pillow he carried. Sighing in relief, the redhead took her bride’s ring and with broad smiles, looking deep into each others’ eyes, the duke slid the ring onto the duchess’ finger.

There came a cheer from the assembled crowd and the tall duke couldn’t wait any longer, stepping forward, she raised Waverly’s veil, marveling at the happiness shining through those green-flecked, hazel depths, and leaned in to kiss her soundly on the lips. The cheer turned into a deafening roar, and Nicole felt the brunette’s lips smile against hers, briefly parting to allow her tongue to slide into the redhead’s mouth and brush against hers, before she pulled away, leaving Nicole dizzy and breathless. Grinning, they turned and faced the assembly, now on their feet clapping and cheering, and walked back down the aisle and out the double doors.

The newlyweds headed directly to the feast in the great hall where the duchess sat directly on Her Majesty’s left and the duke on her bride’s left. The food was sumptuous: roast birds, puddings, sweetmeats, ale, mead, wine; everything overflowed from the cups and platters and the music and talking and laughter was almost deafening. The entire supper, Nicole made sure that the brunette’s wine glass was never empty and made as many toasts as she could. The genius’ current plan was to get her wife drunk enough that she would hopefully pass out and they could forgo the wedding night. Judging by how pink the duchess was getting and the giggling that was emanating from her mouth, Nicole was well on her way to making that a reality. Finally a low, rhythmic thudding started out of nowhere and the redhead looked around in confusion as it grew louder and louder. Looking around she noticed everyone was pounding their goblets on the tables in unison and even the Queen joined in, eyes flashing in mischief as she smirked at the newlyweds. Nicole looked at Waverly and she blushed deeply and met Nicole’s eyes.

“They are sending us off to bed.” The brunette whispered to her new spouse.

Understanding and panic flooded through Nicole in the form of a shock of ice up her spine and tingling in her fingertips. Now was the time. With a deep steadying breath, flashing the room a rakish grin, the redhead took the cue and stood up, pulling out Waverly’s chair for her and giving the brunette her arm. She nodded to James who, with a giant smile on his face, turned and led the couple through the hallways to her… their… rooms. He led the couple through their antechamber and swung open the doors to their inner room where Grace was turning down the sheets on the bed. The redhead stopped Waverly, who swayed on her feet a bit, and swept the brunette up into her arms as she let out a squeak and clutched Nicole as the tall redhead strode across the threshold with her wife in her arms, and laid the duchess gently on the bed. James and Grace bowed themselves out and closed the doors behind them.

Waverly was giggling, propped up on her elbows watching, as Nicole walked over to the table and poured them each a measure of wine. The duke passed the brunette her cup, which she sipped, but needing to steady her nerves, Nicole downed hers in two gulps.

The moment of truth was upon them. The redhead kissed her wife softly, the brunette’s lips chasing the redhead’s as the duke pulled away to murmur, “Close your eyes, darling.” With another giggle, she complied.

To all the readers who are squeamish regarding sex scenes, we’re about to get graphic. Go directly to Chapter Fourteen. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

Nicole waved her hand in front of her wife’s tightly closed eyes, and when her eyelids didn’t flicker at all, she stepped away and grabbed her backpack. Pulling out the gag gift from her best friend, which you might have guessed… was a strap-on, Nicole attached and lubed-up the dildo to the base she had put on that morning in anticipation. She pulled her pants back up, and heartbeat thrumming in her fingertips, she walked over to Waverly on the bed, and climbed on alongside her. The brunette immediately started smiling harder and giggling.

The redhead kissed her softly but deeply on the lips, and pulling away, whispered against them, “Open your eyes, Waves.”

Green eyes flickered open, and took a half second to focus on brown. The brunette beamed again, her eyes crinkling as she reached her hand out to stroke along Nicole’s jaw, and lifted her head to press her lips firmly to the redhead’s. This kiss was much deeper and much longer. Her tongue found its way into Nicole’s mouth, running teasingly alongside, as her fingertips ran along the duke’s side and up her neck to curl into her fiery locks. The duke crushed her wife tightly to her, slipping her hand underneath to her lower back and lifting the duchess up against her body and using that same hand to loosen the ties of her gown. The brunette pulled herself away enough to shimmy out of the sleeves. Nicole nipped and kissed up the newly exposed skin from her wrist to her elbow to her bicep, and along her collar bone, ending her path by licking lightly up her pulsepoint. She shivered underneath the redhead’s ministrations as Nicole licked again and bit down. “Nic!” She sighed softly, fisting her hand more tightly in red hair, tugging and eliciting a moan from the duke. Nicole started to suck, running her hand along the brunette’s side, and brushed her fingertips lightly down her arm, which induced more shivers and gasps, until she laced calloused fingers with long thin ones, squeezing tightly as she sucked harder, running her tongue over the flesh in her mouth, loving the feeling of the brunette trembling underneath.

Releasing the flesh with a pop, Nicole ran the very tip of her tongue along the brunette’s neck and jaw, but the duchess captured the redhead’s lips in another desperate kiss, pressing Nicole tightly against her this time. The duke could feel the dildo pressed right against Waverly’s clit, and the brunette responded by rolling her hips up into the toy. Waverly tried to get her arm between them, presumably to grip her erection, so Nicole pinned the brunette’s arms above her, and kissed her deeper, sucking on her tongue lightly, before she pulled away, both breathing heavily as the brunette’s heavy-lidded eyes darkened to a forest green in lust, and she pushed the redhead off her, flat onto her back. Rolling off the bed, the duchess stood up, and slipped her gown and skirt down over her hips, leaving only the thin, see-through, white cotton shift underneath. Nicole could see her nipples, trying to poke holes through the shift, and dusky pink areolas beneath, flushed with blood, warmth spread from the center of Nicole’s chest, up along her collarbone, up her neck to heat her cheeks and ears at the confident and hungry look in Waverly’s eyes. The duke got out of bed and stood in front of her wife, not touching, just staring deeply into her dark green eyes as the redhead slowly dragged her fingertips up Waverly’s thighs and her waist bunching the shift in her hands to eventually lift the offending garment over her head, exposing her gorgeous naked body for the first time. In a monumental effort of self restraint, the redhead refused to look at the flesh on display straight away, insisting on meeting her wife’s eyes first to check in, but all Nicole saw in the green flecks was lust and excitement. She grinned at Nicole, and arched an eyebrow, taunting her restraint in not looking, so the duke gave in and stepping back, looked down.

Brown eyes traced down her long neck to her prominent collarbone, down the canvas that was her chest, full breasts sitting perkily at attention, her dusky pink areolas and red nipples stark bits of colors on the pale canvas. Nicole’s eyes devoured her breasts, and not nearly sated, continued down the planes of her flat stomach, faint lines hinting at stomach muscles beneath the soft flesh, over her shapely hips and down to the patch of light brown curls between her long defined legs. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. Literally. It stole Nicole’s breath away and made her chest constrict with how much she loved the brunette, how much the redhead wanted her. By this point, the duke could feel her underwear being soaked with her excitement. Hands shaking with a mixture of nerves and desire, she tentatively reached forward to place her hands on the brunette’s warm, soft waist, gripping tighter as the strong redhead lifted the brunette towards her as she kissed her deeply. Assisting the duke, the duchess gave a little jump to wrap her legs around the redhead’s torso, making a soft mewling sound, grinding her center against the dildo as she kissed Nicole, sucking on her tongue in time to her movements.

Waverly pulled away from the kiss, and whispered breathlessly, “We are going to ruin your fine clothes, Nic.”

Nicole nuzzled the tip of her nose lightly against the brunette’s as she said, “I have no reason to wear my wedding clothes again. I’ve married the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.” 

Her face softened at the cheesy line and she kissed Nicole fervently, as the redhead slid her hands down her waist, and over her hips, to cup her ass and lift her a little higher, before kissing her way down the brunette’s throat and collarbone, as she moved one hand to her front, slipping her fingers through wetness, coating her fingers before rubbing across the duchess’s clit. With her first swipe, Waverly whined into Nicole’s mouth and jerked into her hand chasing more friction. She moaned deep in her throat as the redhead swiped her finger across that bundle of nerves again and again in an ever-increasing tempo. Nicole could feel her moans vibrate through their lips as they pressed hot kisses against each other’s mouths. The redhead stamped hot kisses across her sculpted jaw and down her neck, and reveled in the throaty moans vibrating against her lips. Waverly’s moans changed to a keen as Nicole slowly slid one finger between her lips, and dipped it as deep as the angle allowed into her wet, warmth. The brunette’s walls fluttered around her finger and after a few pumps, Nicole slid it out. Waverly huffed at the loss, but the redhead promptly slid it back in, this time with another and was rewarded with a deep gasp as the duchess bucked her hips harder into her hand and her head fell onto Nicole’s broad shoulder. Pausing, the redhead wanted her to have a moment to adjust to the stretch of an extra finger, but the brunette whined and bucked her hips again, so Nicole started a slow pace of pumping in and out, being sure to rub the heel of her palm again her clit on every pass as she curled her fingers and dragged them along the ravenous brunette’s front wall. Her breathing picked up into a series of small gasps with each thrust of Nicole’s fingers and the redhead could feel her walls clutching desperately at her fingers until with a cry in her ear, Waverly climaxed. Her walls gripped Nicole’s fingers, pulsating and milking them with every wave of pleasure that washed over her as she shuddered in her strong arms. Nicole kept up a slow pace of pumping and curling them over the spongy patch on Waverly’s front wall, trying to ease her through and prolong her climax.

Chest heaving, body limp, eventually she stilled, satiated, and placed a few soft kisses on Nicole’s shoulder so the redhead pulled her hand free, grinning in pride as Waverly’s body giving a little shiver at the loss.

Nicole fumbled with the laces of her pants and tugged the pants down over her hips, freeing the dildo. The redhead kissed her wife’s temple and pulled her face back to look her in those beautiful green eyes, eyelids blinking languidly in pleasure.

“My love, this is going to hurt a little for a moment. I’ll go slow, and tell me to stop if it gets to be too much.” The redhead warned the woman in her arms.

The lust cleared from Waverly’s eyes a little, replaced by a tiny bit of fear, but Nicole could also see total trust in those hazel orbs. _Trust in me, that I wont hurt her_. Nicole’s chest constricted again, painful with the love that she felt for this marvelous creature and with the pain borne of shame in deceiving her. Nicole lowered the petite brunette slowly, using her left hand to hold the dildo straight and ensure that it was going in the right hole. _God, that would be a nightmare first_ time, Nicole grimaced at the thought, but judging by the moistness that coated her fingertips, it was the right one. Ever so slowly, Nicole lowered her onto the shaft, and could tell the instant insertion started. Waverly gasped, and clenched her legs tighter around Nicole and the redhead froze, waiting for her body to relax as it adjusted. With a slight whimper, the brunette leaned her head down and kissed her lover, not desperately, but softly and with love, as inch by inch was slowly inserted into her. But she broke away to gasp loudly, eyes fluttering when Nicole bottomed out and their hips were flush together.

Looking into hazel eyes for the slightest hint of hesitation, the redhead again paused, letting her tiny body acclimate to the stretch, before she slowly pulled the dildo out to the tip. Waverly’s eyelids fluttered and her lips parted with tiny pants of pleasure as she gave herself over to Nicole’s attentions. It was easier the second thrust, the brunette’s body relaxed and her fingers curled tight into Nicole’s shoulder blade and in red hair, and Waverly leaned her forehead against the duke’s when she was again fully sheathed within her. Nicole started a rhythm of pushing in and pulling out, shifting the brunette and her own hips whenever necessary. For the beginning, the duchess kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her forehead pressed tightly against the redhead’s, her pants against Nicole’s lips the most adorable thing she’d ever heard. Eventually, when the duke’s arms started to tire, she turned them, and laid Waverly down on the edge of the bed, with her legs still wrapped around the redhead’s torso.

Waverly’s eyelids fluttered open in curiosity as Nicole changed the position, but they slammed closed shortly after when the redhead leaned in to kiss her, thrusting deeper than before with this new position. Nicole kept up the same steady pace of in and out, and deepened the kiss, sucking the brunette’s tongue into her mouth as she slid her hand down the duchess’ front to brush her fingers over her clit. Waverly gasped through her nose and pressed her tongue harder against the redhead’s, starting to frantically rock her hips up into Nicole’s thrusts, craving it deeper. Nicole took the cue, speeding up her fingers and thrusting harder and faster, but they couldn’t keep up the kiss anymore, breaking it so that the brunette could tilt her head back, eyes flickering back and forth under her eyelids, which would only open to allow her to roll her eyes back. She had one hand in a death grip on Nicole’s waist and the other in a death grip on her ass, squeezing in tempo with Nicole’s thrusts as grunts spilled out of the redhead’s mouth and sweat from her exertions started to drip down Nicole’s spine as well as bead on her forehead, brow furrowed in intense concentration.

Waverly’s breathing started to change, getting shallower and even quicker, and Nicole could tell the end was near. The duke bent her head down and kissed a path up her wife’s salty, sweat-slickened tummy and between her breasts, then with a quick swipe of her tongue over the brunette’s nipple, bit down, sucking gently, but running her tongue over the areola. Waverly gasped loudly and shuddered underneath the duke, her body relaxing into the convulsions. Nicole started to slow down and lighten up on the thrusts and her clit, taking her mouth off her duchess’ breast, but not before softly kissing her nipple. She slid the dildo out of the quivering mess that her wife had become, and pulled her pants up over it. The redhead bent over and laid a sound kiss on her clit, at which the brunette twitched. Chuckling, she slid off the bed, and glancing behind her at her wet noodle of a wife, she rinsed it quickly in her ablutions bowl, pretending to splash her face, before putting it safely away in her backpack.

Nicole walked back over and lifted Waverly into her arms, pulled the covers back and put her down, before covering her back up. Nicole climbed in on the other side, and scooted over to pull Waverly’s body into hers to cuddle. The brunette nuzzled up against the redhead, burying her face into Nicole’s neck and kissing her carotid. Waverly’s breathing deepened into a light snore, and Nicole fell asleep to those susurrations with thoughts of what she would do for future nights; _how long can I keep up the charade and not taking off my clothes?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. There we have it! I'm curious as to your thoughts. I tried to overcome the obvious dilemma, but in an absolutely reasonable way. Did I pull it off?
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr if you're so inclined! I'm Carissa190. (:


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a little bit more of the good stuff, little bit of fluff, but I apologize, certainly not my best attempt this time. Hope you still like it! I promise I'll do better next time. I've been absolutely overwhelmed with a really big job interview I had yesterday, like my whole life has become centered around getting this job, ie joining Crossfit and dropping 20 pounds to get in shape, and passing step by step of this interview process. But I've got a couple weeks until I hear back, so I'll be back at it with the history and research next chapter!

The next morning Grace woke the duke up with a timid knock on the door, before she stuck her head in.

Nicole glanced quickly at Waverly, modestly covered, asleep with her head resting on Nicole’s bicep and turned away from the redhead with her butt resting against her hip.

“Your Grace, I have breakfast for you and the Duchess.”

“Thank you, Grace. You can set it on the table in front of the fire.”

With a nod, Grace did as she was bid, then backed out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Nicole slowly extricated her arm from under Waverly’s head, and slipped the pillow in to support it, before squirming out of the bed. The redhead grabbed the backpack off the chair she had left it on last night, and tucked it safely under the bed in its hiding place. Then glancing every few seconds at the brunette, who still slept soundly, the duke changed quickly into a clean doublet and pants, this one a soft green with cream slashes, before brushing her teeth at the washbasin, and deciding she couldn’t put it off any longer, went to wake up her wife. Nicole walked over to Waverly’s side of the bed and just stared down at her for a moment. The teen hadn’t before had the chance to watch her beloved asleep, but she seemed so much younger, and kinder, with the cares of the day wiped from her face.

“Waverly,” Nicole whispered, with a soft kiss to the corner of her eyebrow. “Waverly.”

“Mnnmm.” She grumbled without waking, nuzzling deeper into the pillow.

“Waverly, wake up, breakfast is here.” Nicole kissed her softly again on the eyebrow, then after no response, decided that that wasn’t enough, so she dusted a line of kisses across the brunette’s eyebrow and forehead, then down her cheekbone, on the tip of her nose, and finally the corner of her lips. It was the corner of the lips that triggered a response, as her lips twitched into a smile, and she turned her head to kiss Nicole softly, but squarely, on the lips. Two more, then the redhead pulled away to open her eyes and find breathtakingly beautiful hazel ones already open and searching her face.

The duke beamed at her wife and she shyly smiled back. Another kiss and breakfast was momentarily forgotten as Nicole clambered up onto the bed, on top of the covers, and pressed against Waverly, who wrapped her arms around the duke. Kissing her deeply, the teen smiled through the kiss as she felt the brunette’s lips turning up in a smile. The redhead stole a minute for herself, just hugging her tightly, stamping open mouthed kisses up and down her neck and chin, but with a final kiss, the duke clambered off.

“Breakfast now.” Nicole reminded the duchess, but took her hand and kissed it. Lifting her hand to kiss it pulled one milky breast free from under the covers, flushed nipple and pink areola already tightening in the cool morning air, and the brunette yanked her hand back, to hastily cover herself back up, blushing furiously the whole while.

“After last night, you are still shy?” The redhead laughed, but stepped back to allow the brunette the space to climb out of bed at her leisure without crowding her.

Waverly sat up, keeping the sheet clutched around herself, but once she got to the edge of the bed, she realized she couldn’t take it any farther, so she reluctantly let it drop. Nicole didn’t give her any leeway as she stood there with arms crossed staring straight at her beautiful wife, trying to not even blink as she slowly licked her lips in hunger and eyed the brunette’s full breasts and flat tummy leading to her patch of light brown hair situated dead center between her well-rounded hips. The duchess blushed, but stood proudly in front of the duke, eyebrow quirked, daring Nicole to laugh or say something.

With a smile, the redhead stepped towards her and slid her hands around her wife’s waist and rubbed soothingly up and down her back as she looked into her softening green eyes. Nicole tried to pour all of her thoughts and feelings regarding the brunette into the look, hoping she would understand what she thought of her, how she felt about her, and getting the message loud and clear, Waverly smiled back as she relaxed and slid her hands around Nicole’s neck, slipping her fingertips into her hair. She played with the curls at the nape of the redhead’s neck, which needed cutting soon as they were getting too long.

“I love you, my wife. And I think, _Duchess_ , that you are the most captivating creature I have ever seen.” Waverly smiled at that and it earned Nicole a kiss, but immediately after, her nostrils flared and she pushed past Nicole heading for the breakfast she had scented. _Ouch, second place to food_ , Nicole chuckled and followed her. Waverly did throw on her discarded undergown before sitting in a chair and starting to devour the porridge and warm bread that was their breakfast.

The newlyweds ate in silence, Nicole was hungrier than expected, and the brunette was the first to break the silence.

“I normally spend my days with the Queen, but I expect us to make an appearance at suppers together. What will you do today?”

“I planned on getting my hair trimmed, and possibly visiting the library. Do you think you could sneak away from your duties with the Queen for an hour at lunch to…” Nicole floundered, blushing lightly, unsure how to ask her wife on a date “…to tour the gardens?”

The brunette stared her down, hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously, waiting for the redhead to tell her she was joking, but with a raised eyebrow, nodded curtly. “I suppose I can spare an hour or two to tour the gardens with you… husband.” The duchess couldn’t hold back a small smile at the last word.

Elated, Nicole beamed at her, and Waverly’s grin widened at making her spouse so happy, but went back to finishing her repast.

After breakfast, she called Grace in, along with her own maid who Nicole figured had come with her into the marriage, and they both dressed her in her gown and fixed her honey brown hair for the day. The three of them giggled and would steal glances at the redhead in her chair reading, but covertly watching them as well with a small smile on her face.

When they were finished, both Grace and her maid, whose name Nicole was going to have to learn, stepped back to admire their handiwork, then curtseyed deeply to the duchess who looked shocked as they murmured, “Your Grace.” Waverly met Nicole’s eyes over their shoulders, blushing slightly, but standing straighter and lifting her chin. Marrying Nicole had elevated her in title and status, her previous one having been given to her in her own right by the Queen, but as Duchess of York, she was now higher than almost every other duchess at court.

Brown eyes sparkling, Nicole smirked at her wife and addressed the maids, “Thank you, ladies, you may await the Duchess Waverly in the antechamber. I want a moment with my wife.” At Nicole’s dismissal, both girls curtseyed to them, before backing out of the room and shutting the door behind them.

Setting down her book and stepping right up to the brunette, Nicole took her hands in hers and looking directly into hazel eyes, declared, “I want you to know, I love you, Waverly, so incredibly much. I am so thankful for the love we share and that it was you I got to marry.”

Giggling, she flung herself into a tight hug with the duke, and kissed her on the neck, jaw, and eventually her lips. “I love you, too, Nic.” Then she stepped right past the redhead, towards the door to start her day, but Nicole couldn’t resist giving her bottom a sound slap. The brunette jumped with a squeal, and glanced back over her shoulder, mirth, and more than a little lust, dancing in her green eyes.

The duke spent the entire morning in the library, trying to catch up on all of her missed research into how to get home. Not that she was entirely sure she wanted to go anymore. _I have a life and a woman I love, what awaits me at home?_ Well her friends and family, but it posed a serious conundrum for the redhead. Lost in musings of how long she could keep up this charade, as well as if and when she could finally tell Waverly the truth, maybe even the Queen, a timid voice cleared her throat and broke through her thoughts.

“Your Grace? My Lord York?” The nervous maid in front of the redhead had probably been trying to get her attention for a while.

Nicole sat up straighter and responded, “Yes? I apologize, it will take some getting used to, this new title. What can I do for you?”

She blushed, but squeaked out, “The Duchess of York asked me to inform you that she is needed with the Queen on important business and that she will not be able to join you in the gardens today and that she sends her apologies.”

Grunting, she nodded her thanks to the girl who curtseyed and scurried off now that her task was completed. At this point she was restless, so she decided to head down to check on Randy and Chrissy.

Nicole sent a runner down to make sure that Shadow was saddled, and put the book she had been reading back in its spot. By the time she got down to the stables, Shadow was out front, waiting for me, early afternoon sun glinting off his brushed, black coat as he pranced in excitement. The stablemaster’s boy was waiting to give Nicole a leg up, but she waved him off and clambered up into the saddle on her own.

It was a quick ride through the city and the redhead was at the White Dragon tying up Shadow next to the water trough. Nicole stepped inside and immediately almost took a face full of ale as a cup shattered on the wall next to the door. Ducking the resultant splashes, the duke ran inside and found a very angry Chrissy backed into a corner, ready to throw another cup at two men who had hedged her in. She met Nicole’s eyes over their shoulders and the relief on her face was clear.

“Nic!” She lowered the cup and visibly relaxed.

One of the men turned to look at the teen, while the other kept his eyes on Chrissy and drunkenly edged closer. The one facing Nicole squinted his eyes, then waved her off as if batting away a gnat before turning back to leer at Chrissy.

“Excuse me. What do you think you are doing to that young lady?” The redhead angrily demanded of the men.

“Bugger off!” The one who had glanced at Nicole yelled without even turning around.

“Step away from her now.” The duke’s voice had gone cold with rage as she advanced towards the men.

“I said ‘bugger off’ ye ponce!” He hollered again.

She stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, spinning him around, and shoving him while off balance into a chair.

He landed with a thump and while she was distracted looking at him, the other one decided to notice Nicole and clouted her on the temple. She squinted through the washing machine effect and the ringing in her ears, and grabbed him by the sleeve, yanked him off balance and slammed his head into the counter. He went down like a rock.

His friend let out an inarticulate yell of rage, and stood up, swinging wildly. The redhead blocked two punches, before she kneed him in the groin and he went down with his friend.

Nicole glanced at Chrissy, then promptly puked into an empty stew bowl that was on the table in front of her. The duke put her hand up to hold her poor spinning head and Chrissy stepped over the drunkards to hug the redhead.

“Nic, thank you, but I had it in hand. Sometimes the patrons get a little handsy when they have had a bit too much to drink.” Chrissy soothingly rubbed the redhead’s back while she hugged her.

“Chrissy, where’s your father?” The duke asked while keeping an eye on the two louts from over the blonde’s shoulder.

“Upstairs resting. He is much better, but still a little weak. Now that our tavern boasts some of the only clean water in the city, we are doing much more business than before. Soon I will not be able to handle it on my own.” The blonde idly ran her fingers through red hair, “Nic, you’re getting a little shaggy. Would you like me to trim your hair?”

“Yes, thank you for the offer. I was actually hoping I could ask you to.” Chrissy smiled and nodded her assent.

At this moment, a woman came bustling in through the front door. She took one look at the scene before her and tsked over the drunkards writhing on the floor, but never slowed her pace and continued straight up the stairs.

Nicole looked questioningly at Chrissy, but the blonde never took her eyes off from the spot where the woman had disappeared from sight.

"Chrissy? Who was that?”

She dragged her eyes from the stairs and glanced at Nicole with a look the redhead couldn’t quite read on her face. “That’s Michelle. She came by to learn how to purify the water, but has been back every day to spend time with my father and feed him.”

“Are they…?” Nicole began, but let her sentence trail off. Her head had stopped spinning, so she took the out cold lout by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him outside to dump unceremoniously to the side of the building, before she went back in and did the same with the one still curled whimpering around his family jewels, depositing him on his friend.

Chrissy walked with Nicole as she took out the trash, and replied, “I believe they have developed feelings for each other. My father has a light in his eyes that I have not seen since my mother died many years ago when I was just a little girl. I am happy for him, it is just strange to me.”

At that moment, Michelle stuck her head back down the stairs and said, “Yer father would like tae speak with ye, Chrissy.”

The two walked up the stairs and into Randy’s room, where he was in bed, but sitting propped up against the pillows, holding Michelle’ hand as she stood next to his side of the bed. His eyes lit up when Nicole followed Chrissy in and he exclaimed, “Your Grace!” At which Michelle glanced back and forth between the two in some confusion.

With a smile, she strode forward to take Randy’s hand and press it to her lips. “I’ve told you, it is always just ‘Nic’ to you, Randy. I am glad to see you feeling so much better.”

Randy beamed at her, then clapped the duke’s hand between both of his. “Michelle, this is Lord Nic, Duke of Davis…”

“…and York.” The redhead interjected with a barely contained chuckle. Chrissy glanced at Nicole startled at this news.

Michelle’s eyes widened and she dropped into a shallow curtsey. “Yer Grace.”

The redhead took her hand and raised her up. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Michelle.”

“Do ye live up at Whitehall, Yer Grace?” Nicole nodded in response to her question, so she continued. “M’ sister works up there at the palace! In the kitchens!”

With a shock, the accent suddenly clicked comprehension into place. “Her name wouldn’t be Gus, would it?”

“Aye! Tha’s her!” Michelle blushed lightly, but looked fiercely proud.

“I only met her once, but she took very good care of me after a mishap I had suffered.”

Randy was smiling brilliantly up at Michelle, who apparently felt the warmth of his gaze because she looked down to meet his glance and returned his soft smile. With great difficulty, Randy tore his eyes away from Michelle to look at Chrissy.

“Chrissy, my dear, come here.” He beckoned her to sit on the bed next to him and held her hand tightly. “I have asked Michelle to marry me, and she has said yes. I have been so lonely all these years since your mother passed and you are getting old enough to be seeking a husband of your own and will be leaving me.”

Chrissy shifted uncomfortably next to her father at his words, stealing a quick glance at Nicole. “Father..” she began, but he cut her off.

“My daughter, it is the way of the world. I am at peace with that. I only wished you to know of my intentions with Michelle. Nic, I am glad you are here to witness this, and would like to invite you to attend the wedding, one week hence, that is if you can. It will be a small, private affair, held right here in the White Dragon.”

Grinning widely, the duke nodded to confirm she would indeed be here for the wedding, but asked, “Would you like to me pass along the invitation to your sister, Michelle?”

She shook her head. “Nae, it should be me tha’ tells her. ‘Tis been long since I have seen her, it will be nice tae reconnect.”

Chrissy sat Nicole in a chair and trimmed her hair quickly while they chatted a little longer, the talk consisting mainly Michelle and Randy making plans for the wedding, until the redhead announced that it was getting late and should be making her way back to the palace. Chrissy offered to walk Nicole to the stables out back; however, she proved lost in her own thoughts and not much in the way of company for the short trip down the stairs to the back.

“Chrissy, are you sure you are going to be okay with this?” Nicole looked worriedly into her pensive pools of blue.

“Hmm?” The blonde looked at Nicole blankly, but then comprehension spread across her face. “Oh yes. Like I said, he has been so sad since my mother’s death, I will be glad of the happiness Michelle will bring him.”

“Okay, Chrissy. I will see you next week then.” Nicole gave her a tight hug goodbye, and with a kiss to the cheek, mounted Shadow and made her way back up to the palace.

She had arrived just in time for supper, so the duke tossed Shadow’s reins to the boy waiting, and went straight into the feast. Waverly was already there on the Queen’s left with an empty seat next to her, waiting for Nicole to occupy it.

Waverly turned her head for a quick kiss as Nicole sat down, then leaned in to ask the redhead how her day had gone, eyeing the newly trimmed locks with some puzzlement.

“I visited some friends in town. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about one of them.” She looked at Nicole in some confusion, but nodded for the redhead to continue. “The young woman you met the first day of training for the tournament, Chrissy. I would like you to make her one of your lady’s maids.”

She looked at Nicole in shock that morphed quickly into a fury I’ve never seen from her. “Your lover?! Is she pregnant with your child, Nic?!” She hissed in outrage, glancing around to be sure no one had heard her outburst. “I will not have your mistress and bastard under my roof!”

The redhead placed a calming hand on the irate brunette’s knee, thumb brushing soothingly back and forth. “Waves, she is not my mistress. I ended things with her long before our betrothal, and we haven’t been intimate since before I even came to court. I only worry about her prospects. She showed me kindness when I first landed on these shores with nothing.”

She looked dubious, but nodded slightly, her lips still pursed in a tight line of anger, eyes flashing with suspicion and anger.

The redhead continued on to answer her unanswered question. “And there is no child.”

She nodded again, suspicion still dancing in her eyes, but declared, “We can discuss it further later, but I would like us to go see our new manor just outside London tomorrow. I thought we could spend a few days there.” Nicole smiled and nodded her agreement, then with a kiss to her wife’s knuckles, continued with supper. Afterwards, in their bedchamber, the redhead pleaded exhaustion as an excuse for falling asleep without some snuggling before bed. The duchess looked a little disappointed but rolled onto her side and promptly fell asleep, while Nicole lay awake, listening to her deep breaths, trying to think of excuses for further nights to get out of having sex with her wife.

The redhead barely slept that night; she kept jolting awake from a daze every time that Waverly touched her, terrified she would feel something that shouldn’t be there on a male. After a long night, dawn had broken and the duke took the chance to dress quickly into something new while she was asleep. Waverly woke just as the redhead was lacing up her pants and Grace knocked on the bedroom door with their breakfast.

After a quick breakfast of cold meats and cheese with some bread and fruit, they had some trunks packed, then set off in a borrowed carriage through the city to their new manor just outside of London. Nicole had never ridden in a carriage before and found it was not a comfortable ride; they were jostled on the poorly padded, hardwood bench by every pothole, and the thin, gauzy curtains over the windows did nothing to keep out the smells of the city, and in fact prevented them from having a breeze to carry away some of the heat and smells. But they held hands and spoke of the court gossip Nicole had missed. Grace and Waverly’s maid, who the redhead had learned was named Mary, sat silently opposite them, just staring out of the windows. Two hours later they were rolling up to the front of the manor; Nicole had been watching the land get greener with trees and bushes popping up more and more often. The carriage trundled to a stop, and without waiting for the carriage driver to get the door, Nicole hopped out and turned to offer Waverly her hand. As her wife climbed out of the carriage, the redhead took the opportunity to look at the manor that was now theirs. It reminded Nicole of Pemberley from _Pride and Prejudice_. It was an immense, imposing structure made out of light-colored stone, with ivy making its way up the walls, twining around the columns out front. Twin curved stone staircases, mirror images of each other, led up to the front doors which were two enormous slabs of wood, currently flung open wide. She turned in a full circle, gawping at the buildings which ringed the courtyard they were standing in, eyeing the enormous gates they had passed through, ready to be slammed closed and deny entrance to any who didn’t belong at the stately home.

James hopped down from the seat up front he had been sharing with the carriage driver, who was in the process of unloading their trunks from the back. James came around and like a true gentleman, helped down Grace and Mary from the carriage.

“How did they know they were coming?” Nicole asked Waverly.

Hazel eyes looked at Nicole inquisitively, but responded, “James sent ahead a rider to inform them. That way the house was aired out and lunch was waiting for us.”

Waverly led the way up the stone staircase, completely at ease in the situation. A glance behind Nicole showed James aiding the carriage driver with getting the trunks unloaded, while Grace and Mary had already headed straight into the manor. Passing through the doors, they were immediately enveloped by cool air, out of the bright sun that had been beating down mercilessly. Brown eyes only took a moment to adjust to the dimness indoors, in fact there were windows everywhere, with the curtains flung wide, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream in.

There were sheets being yanked off of grand furniture, ornate wood with plush cushions; dust motes swirled in the air. Nicole only had a moment to take it in, however; Mary came bustling down a hallway in front of them.

“Your Graces, lunch is ready. It is laid out on the back terrace waiting for you.”

Waverly nodded and with a quick curtsey her maid spun on her heel, leading the couple down some hallways through the house. Exceedingly curious, Nicole glanced in the rooms they passed, catching glimpses of furniture having sheets yanked off, but Waverly’s firm grip on her arm and quick pace kept Nicole from exploring as she longed to do. Eventually they exited through some enormous glass doors, again flung wide to let the sunlight and air in. Nicole squinted at the bright sunlight, but was relieved to see that their repast had been set up at a table in the shaded part of the terrace. As they took their seats, the redhead found she wasn’t hungry, so she looked out at the backyard. There was a wide lawn, with many trees in what looked like a small wood off to the left, and to the right, Nicole could see the glint of the sun off what seemed to be a mini-lake or very large pond. Forcing herself to eat something, the duke nibbled on some cold chicken and cheese and washed it down with some watered down wine.

“Dear, I need to see to the unpacking of our trunks and setting up of the household. You should take this time to explore the house.” Waverly informed her spouse as she caught Nicole fidgeting with eagerness.

Beaming at Waverly in excitement, she kissed her quickly, then raced off back into the cool, dimness of the house, where Nicole spent the next few hours exploring, which mainly consisted of sticking her head into every room until she found the library. Whoever had lived here before had obviously loved this room as much as Nicole did and it was love at first sight. Giant diamond-paned windows with gauzy curtains pulled back illuminated the rich, dark wood-paneled walls studded with floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed with leather-bound books and even some scrolls. There were giant plush couches and chairs scattered along the walls and in front of a white marble fireplace taller than the redhead was. The redhead’s exploration of this room alone took two hours, which passed in the blink of an eye. But the sun was slanting steeply through the window, telling her that it was almost time for supper. A silly idea hit Nicole that this house might have some secret passageways or rooms or even nooks. The duke proceeded to tug on every book she could reach and even twitching the paintings, knocking on the walls and even her giant desk. Eventually a servant stuck his head in, probably investigating the source of the knocking.

“Your Grace? Can I help you find something?” He asked with a small smile on his face. Nicole was sure he definitely suspected he knew what she was doing.

Grinning sheepishly, she mumbled that she had been looking to see if there were any secret passageways.

He chuckled and nodded, placing a finger to the side of his nose. “Your Grace, they would not be very secret rooms or passageways if everyone knew about them.” He walked into the study, or library as Nicole had decided to call it, straight over to the fireplace, and twitched a carved cherubic face sideways. A click sounded and the back of the fireplace cracked open. He winked at the duke before walking back out. Heart pounding in excitement, she pressed lightly on the false wall, and a slight gust of wind sputtered the candle she was holding as she crept through the doorway and found herself in a wider hallway than she imagined. She glanced at the door behind her and there was a small latch that looked like it unlocked the door from the inside, so she pressed it shut behind her before trying the latch, which sure enough did open the door from the inside. Closing it again, she wandered down the short hallway into a wider space. Examining it by the meager light the candle presented, she discovered it to be a smaller, yet equally comfortable version of her library. The duke decided this would be her private study; sheets still covered the furniture and a smaller fireplace was unlit, but had wood stacked within and to the side. More bookshelves lined the walls, with considerably more tomes and scrolls here. She located another hallway, followed it down, and lifting the latch on the door at the end, found herself in what she had previously discovered to be the master bedroom. The entrance to this passageway was behind a man-sized portrait of King Henry VIII, Her Majesty’s father. Grace turned the corner carrying a stack of clothes that it seemed she was loading into the wardrobe. She jumped, almost dropping the clothes.

“Your Grace! You startled me! I was only gone a moment.” Grace panted, but proceeded to load her armful into the wardrobe.

Nicole chuckled, delighted with her little secret. “I apologize, Grace.” Then to change the subject asked her, “Do you know when supper is?”

“Yes, milord, they have been lookin’ for you. It is ready and the Duchess is already at table. Should I show you to the dinin’ hall?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Grace.” With a smile, Grace turned and led her down the hallway to the staircase and through another hallway to the dining hall; Nicole was going to have almost as much trouble finding her way here as she did at Whitehall. Waverly was already seated at one end of the long table, and a place was set for Nicole at the opposite end. The duke took her seat and beamed at Waverly, who smiled back.

“Did you have fun exploring, dear?” she asked as the servants stepped up to serve them a fragrant broth.  
“I did indeed. I particularly liked the library.” She responded, deciding to keep her study a secret for now. She would, of course, eventually tell her wife, but it was a safe place for Nicole to keep things from her, such as a certain strap-on or even pads.

The brunette smiled in response, and Nicole saw her green eyes light up. “You will have to show me the library. I am very much looking forward to a cozy place to curl up and read.”

The duke smiled at her and for the rest of supper they spoke of the unpacking, what they liked about the manor, things they wanted to change, etc. After supper, Nicole walked her wife through the library, and each of them grabbed a book then sat down to read in the chairs in front of the now lit fireplace. Hours passed in companionable silence, until Waverly set her book down on the table next to her chair, then came over and sat on the arm of Nicole’s chair, as the redhead marked her place in the book and looked up at her. The brunette looked deep into her brown eyes, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling as she smiled a tiny smile, and leaned down to kiss Nicole softly. The redhead responded enthusiastically and tugged the duchess into her lap, deepening the kiss as she swiped her tongue languorously along her bottom lip and pushed it into her mouth to stroke along hers; the brunette’s hands were tangled in red hair tugging as the duke’s were wandering over her waist and hips and around to knead the swell of her ass. Waverly pulled away sharply, breathing hard, but a fire in her bright eyes, pupils dilated, some wisps of sandy brown hair pulled loose from her hairdo and framing her face. She took Nicole urgently by the hand, tugging her up from the chair and towards the door. At this point, we want to warn the prudish again to go directly to Chapter Fifteen, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

The redhead chuckled and swept her wife up into her arms, carrying her down the hallway and up the stairs. The fire was lit in their bedroom, and it was the only source of light in the dimness of the room as Nicole carried Waverly straight over to the bed and unceremoniously dumped her onto it. She bounced and gasped at the redhead’s uncouth treatment, but seeing the grin on her face, she giggled and kicked her shoes off. Nicole pushed the duchess’ dress up inch by agonizing inch, kissing a path up her leg, letting her kisses get wetter and brushing the brunette’s soft skin with the tip of her tongue, the higher up her inner thigh she got. The redhead had discovered that her wife was super soft on the highest part of her inner thigh, and just lightly ghosted her lips over it again and again, eliciting shivers of pleasure and anticipation from the woman under her. Trailing a line up the brunette’s center with her tongue, she dipped her tongue to collect the ambrosia leaking from her before pressing harder as she reached her clit. The brunette’s moan turned into a tiny gasp when she did it, so Nicole did it again, focusing more attention on her clit, alternating circles and suckles. 

Once more, long thin fingers tangled in red hair, tugging Nicole harder against her, so the redhead applied more pressure, rubbing a slow circle over the bundle of nerves with her tongue. Waverly’s breathing was picking up, her nails scratching Nicole’s scalp in time with her tongue’s circles. With the duchess’ wetness coating her chin, Nicole pulled away, which earned her a slight whimper from her needy wife. Her whimper turned to a gasp as the redhead flipped Waverly over and unlaced her dress, tugging it down, tracing a line of kisses down her shoulder and down her spine. Nicole paused to admire her ass, running her fingertips and lips over the swell of it. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she bit down hard on the underside just before where it met her leg, and the brunette gasped loudly, squirming under her; it was tantalizing, like a snake charmer and Nicole was the snake unable to keep her eyes from her beautiful globes as they jiggled with her movements. She nipped tiny little bites immediately soothing them with her tongue all over, finally biting down hard again on the underside of the brunette’s other asscheek, right before it met her thigh. This earned Nicole another gasp, but she flipped her wife over so she could trace a line of kisses and nibbles up the brunette’s stomach, between her breasts, up her neck, along her jawline and the corner of her mouth. Waverly turned her head quickly to capture the duke’s lips and kissed Nicole deeply, her tongue probing along the redhead’s, reaching deeper and deeper, but flitting away when Nicole tried to reciprocate in a cat and mouse game. The brunette smiled against the duke’s lips, knowing she was teasing her, so holding on tight to her precious cargo, Nicole picked them both up off the bed.

Excited green eyes looked into brown orbs, overflowing with affection, trying to pour all of her love for the brunette out and into her, because it was just too much for one person to hold. Waverly’s eyes watered with the unconditional love and acceptance that Nicole was pouring into her. The tall redhead walked them over to the wardrobe Grace had been loading earlier, pressing her hard up against it, and with her left hand Nicole grabbed the top of it, holding on as her right hand slipped under Waverly’s thigh to press against the brunette’s center. Those green eyes, still staring into brown went unfocused and her previously smiling mouth went slack in arousal as the redhead rubbed along, teasing as she dipped a fingertip barely in, then out, then in, then out, until finally, Nicole plunged two fingers in. The brunette flung her head back, almost cracking it on the wardrobe, but she didn’t seem to care. The duchess was squirming in Nicole’s arms, slowly riding her fingers back and forth. At the angle she was holding her wife, the redhead really only had access to her G and A spots, but the brunette wasn’t complaining. Waverly snaked a hand down between them to rub her clit in circles that were increasing in tempo as she tried to ride Nicole’s hand harder, forcing her fingers deeper as the duchess whimpered. They kept that up, Waverly frantically rubbing her clit in circles and Nicole’s long fingers hooked and rubbing steadily between her G spot and her A spot until with a final gasp, the brunette’s breath hitched and she started twitching in the redhead’s strong arms, her walls clamping down on Nicole’s fingers making it harder to keep rubbing, but the duke soldiered on as she fought through and kept up relentlessly on her spots, even doing what she could to trap her own hand against the brunette’s clit with her body, forcing a constant pressure. The duchess’ twitches got bigger and her breathing was more erratic until Nicole licked along her nipple, bit down, and sucked it hard into her mouth. With a gasp, Waverly went slack, giving herself over to her tremors and riding out her second orgasm. This time the redhead let up on her spots, instead just leaving her fingers in there as her walls clamped down and released rhythmically, trying to milk Nicole’s fingers.

Gradually her spasms grew more spaced out and less violent and her walls released the redhead’s fingers, however, she was still completely slack in Nicole’s arms. The brunette whimpered as Nic pulled out to wrap both arms around her wife to compensate for her jelly legs not holding her onto her. The duke walked her over to the bed, freed one arm to draw back the covers, and laid her wife on the fresh white sheets. Nicole walked over to her side of the bed, kicked off her shoes, then climbed in, fully clothed into bed next to her.

“You are still dressed, Nic.” She mumbled.

“I know, my love, but I’m too tired.” She excused herself, before she chuckled. “Someone really took it out of me.”

Waverly nodded and mumbled some sort of agreement, curled onto her side, as Nicole slipped an arm under her neck and she twined her fingers with the duke’s, both of them falling asleep within moments.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Hopefully this makes up for a subpar posting last week. Hope you guys like it! And let me know your thoughts. If you feel the need to yell at me on Tumblr, my Tumbler is Carissa190

Nicole awoke with a start the next morning to Waverly running long fingers up her stomach, a mischievous look dancing in her hazel eyes as she pushed Nicole’s undershirt up inch by inch. The redhead slapped a hand on top of hers quickly before she got too high, but successfully managed to cover it by twining her fingers around hers, then bringing the brunette’s hand up to her mouth for a tender kiss.

“What do you want to do today, my love?” She asked her wife.

“I want us to go riding around the property and explore it.”

The redhead smiled and kissed her hand again, then rolled out of bed as she huffed behind her, grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the garderobe. Medieval restrooms were not what they are used to. They were closest to porta-potties; a wooden box with a hole that led straight down to a waste pit. It smelled horrendous as you can imagine, despite the fresh reeds and herbs that servants left to try and cut through the scent, but it was a private place for Nicole to change in without her wife figuring out she was not male. 

When she was all finished in there, the duke went back into the master bedroom where Waverly was having a plain riding gown put on by her maid, while Grace made the bed back up.

“Your Graces, if you are ready, breakfast is set in the dinin’ hall.” Grace announced.

“Thank you, Grace. Can you have….” Nicole trailed off in the middle of her question, brown eyes widening as she noticed Grace, not even aware she was doing it, had her hand pressed against her abdomen. She looked at the duke quizzically at her pause, so Nicole coughed and continued “…James have the grooms make up our horses? The Duchess and I would like to go riding today.” She nodded and swept out of the room as Waverly’s maid was finishing pulling the laces tight on the brunette’s dress.

When she was dressed, the redhead offered her wife an arm, which the duchess took, and they headed down to the dining hall and a delicious breakfast of beans, eggs, bacon, and cubed potatoes cooked in bacon grease and flavored with rosemary and salt. Afterwards, they headed out and Nicole lifted Waverly up into her very uncomfortable-looking sidesaddle.

“I forgot my gloves, dear. I will just be a moment.” With that as her excuse, the redhead headed back into the manor house. She entered the first room off the hall where Grace was dusting and shut the door behind her.

“Your Grace?” Grace’s voice squeaked as looked at Nicole with something akin to fear as her eyes swept between the duke and the shut door, and backed up trying to put a piece of furniture discreetly between them.

“Grace, please do not worry. I do not mean you any harm. I just wanted a moment of privacy to ask you something.” Grace’s face relaxed as blushing, she stepped back out from behind the chair she had cowered behind and dipped into a tiny curtsey.

“Absolutely. What can I do for Your Grace?”

“Grace….” Nicole paused to take a slight breath, there was no easy way to ask this, “...are you pregnant?”

A rattling gasp slid past her lips and her blue eyes grew as big as saucers and her hand went right back to her stomach. Immediately she sat down and tears started rolling down her face.

“Grace, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt or insult you!” The duke strode forward to do the only thing she could think of, she hugged her tightly.

The blonde stiffened at first, then wrapped her arms around the duke, sobbing aloud. “Your Grace, I cry because I am afraid. Afraid of you lettin’ me go, afraid to tell James…” she sniffled.

“So it is James’ correct?” Nicole asked the blonde, to which she nodded against the redhead’s shoulder.

“Well he has the right to know. And you both have been such vital parts of my household I would never let you go. Talk it over, but if the two of you would like to marry, I will not only allow it, but support you.”

This started her off sobbing harder and she clutched the redhead tighter.

“Thank you, Your Grace! Thank you!”

The redhead pulled away from her to kiss her gently on the forehead and Grace sneezed on Nicole’s chest.

“Oh, Your Grace! I am so sorry!” She cried out, appalled that she had made a mess on the duke’s doublet, and grabbed a rag she had been dusting with. Before Nicole’s brain could catch up, she had started wiping at the redhead’s chest and she saw the moment Grace noticed the duke’s breasts. Heart stuttering as her blood slowed in her veins as Grace’s hand slowed then pulled away slightly and her eyes got big while her mouth opened in a tiny “o” of shock. Nicole lifted her chin to raise her wide blue eyes to her worried brown orbs.

“Yes, Grace. But you are aware that this needs to stay a secret, yes? No one can ever find out, although I see no point in keeping it from James now that you know, but no one outside of the two of you can ever find out.”

The blonde nodded, and Nicole saw acceptance and trust in her eyes, which steeled into resolve.

“Of course, Your Grace. Does the Duchess…?” She began, but the duke cut her off with a resigned sigh and sad shake of her head. “She loves you, I think she might accept you, Your Grace.” But Nicole saw in those blue eyes how unsure of that statement she was.

The redhead shrugged sadly, and explained, “Maybe someday I can tell her, but right now, it is not the time.”

“But… if you do not mind me askin’, how do you…?” Again she seemed incapable of finishing her question and blushed in embarrassment that she had even dared to ask.

Nicole laughed to ease her mind, and said, “I’m very careful and can answer the rest of your questions later, but for now she is waiting.”

“Indeed she is!” The redhead heard an angry voice from behind her, as again her blood froze into ice water and her heart stopped in terror and Grace yelped then jumped away from the duke and the compromising position they had been sharing.

Nicole turned around slowly and Waverly was standing at the doorway, arms folded angrily over her chest. _How much had she heard? Or did it only look like I was taking advantage of poor Grace?_ She cringed at both thoughts.

“My love, what are you…?” Now it was Nicole’s turn to not finish her sentence.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long, and I see now what it was!” Her eyes blazed, twin green flames of red hot anger. “I have been wondering why you never let me touch you and only make love to me with your clothes on! Is it because there is evidence of another woman on you?! Would I see bite marks and scratches left by another on your skin?!” She screeched, and the redhead winced at the fact that she’d noticed such things. The duke glanced at Grace who had her lips pursed in a firm line, as she met Nicole’s eyes but looked at the ground.

Speaking calmly, the redhead took a step in her wife’s direction with a hand outstretched towards her, “Waverly, come in and shut the door.” The brunette looked daggers at the duke, but slammed the door shut behind her and strode straight past Nicole, slapping aside her hand before flinging herself angrily into a chair. “Grace is pregnant, dear.” Glancing at Grace who still had her eyes on the floor in shame, blue pools welling with tears anew, Nicole walked over to put a hand reassuringly on the blonde’s shoulder. Her wife’s narrowed, suspicious gaze flitted between them, and Nicole saw the thought cross her mind without her voicing it. “It is not mine, Waverly! It is James’ and she has not told him yet. I was easing her fears and telling her that I will not let her go and in fact, if they wish to, I will support them marrying.” Grace glanced up and smiled through her tears at Nicole reiterating her support.

The redhead saw Waverly’s stormy hazel eyes clear as she saw the truth of it; she had witnessed herself how much the two young lovers liked each other. She abruptly stood up, and crossed over to Grace, who flinched and curtseyed deeply to the duchess. Waverly, to her credit, swept Grace into a tight hug and stroked her blonde hair as she murmured assurances that she and James would always have a place in their household and be supported by them. Grace gave an almighty sob in happiness and hugged the duchess back, but quickly remembered herself, stepping out of the embrace to curtsey to them both. She thanked them both profusely, then excused herself and dashed out of the room, right past a shocked-looking James who had been walking past outside. He looked after the teary blonde in confusion and then back to the duke and duchess inside the room as he went pale with worry, freckles standing out starkly against the sudden pallor of his skin.

“James, come here!” The duke barked out, more forcefully than she intended. He flinched at the summons but came into the room and bowed to Waverly and Nicole.

“Your Graces?” He croaked and Nicole could barely hear his panicked whisper.

“James, you need to speak to Grace, but let her come to you in her own time. I just wanted you both to know how much the Duchess and I appreciate you and rely on your help. You both will _always_ have a place in our household.” His brown eyes went wide, and he beamed in pleasure, dropping into a deep bow.

“Thank you, Your Graces!” With a final bow, he dashed out of the room after Grace.

Waverly slipped her hand into the duke’s, squeezing tightly and turning to kiss the redhead’s cheek and rest her forehead against hers. “I am sorry, my love. I let my anger get the best of me and spoke rashly, and jumped to conclusions.”

Nicole ducked her head to kiss the tip of the brunette’s nose and responded, “Darling, I’m sorry. I should have brought my suspicions about Grace up with you, and I am _so_ sorry that you would ever even doubt the vehemence of my love and affections for you. There is no one else for me, and there never will be. I love you to the very depth of my soul with every fiber of my being.” _I’m also glad I didn’t get slapped again…you tiny, beautiful, violent woman._ Nicole thought to herself fondly before softly kissing her wife’s lips, and continuing, “I want to promote James to a position of superiority in this household, perhaps Grace, too.”

Squeezing her spouse’s hand, Waverly said, “Of course. We will think of something appropriate. Also, I will bring on your friend… Chrissy.” She barely paused before saying Chrissy’s name and, again to her credit, said it with very little distaste. The redhead turned to face her wife, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. 

The duke breathed against her lips, “Thank you, my love. Her and her father did me such a service when I first arrived in this land, and I just want to repay my debt.”

The duchess smiled and nodded, but her eyes lit on the mess Grace’s snot and tears had made of the duke’s doublet. “Nic! What have you done to your doublet?!” Nicole laughed and pulled her along behind her back out to the horses. Once more she lifted the brunette up, and this time the redhead climbed into her saddle and they turned the horses towards the wood and lake.

It was a warm day. The sun was beating down on the newlyweds, creating a muggy air, barely stirred by the slight breeze as their horses plodded along. It was a sudden change as they entered the cool shadows of the woods. The trees were spaced far apart with little to no undergrowth, but the tall trees stretched high above and their branches blocked most of the merciless sun’s rays, dappling it on the ground. They arrived at the lakeside and Nicole helped lift Waverly down, before she laid out the blanket and picnic items, giving the horses their leads to go graze at their leisure.

All in all, it was the first truly peaceful day the teenager had since arriving. It occurred to Nicole that she hadn’t sincerely tried to research getting home, or even thought about it in a long time. She looked at Waverly lounging with her head on the redhead’s thigh as she read a book she had brought; the rush of warmth the duke felt answered her unasked question. Waverly was Nicole’s home now. Guilt flooded in, tainting the warmth and happiness; the redhead needed to come clean, for better or worse, her wife needed to know. So she decided to tell her after returning from Randy’s wedding.

Waverly nodded off in the warm sunlight and Nicole took the opportunity to study her lovely wife: from her long eyelashes to the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth to her long aquiline nose and pink plump lips. At some point the redhead must have fallen asleep as well, because she woke up with the chill of dusk fast approaching. The duke gently shook the brunette awake and they packed up the remains of their picnic and headed for the manor.

When they got back, and had consumed a quick supper, Waverly went straight up to the room to bed, as Nicole went to the library to look over the finances regarding the land that accompanied her new title, but never got the chance. James and Grace were waiting for them, so the redhead shut the door behind her for some privacy. James gave a deep bow and took hold of the blonde’s hand and announced that he wished to marry Grace. The duke looked at Grace, who blushed, but nodded her head in affirmation, beaming in happiness as tears of joy filled her blue eyes. Nicole tried to keep a stern look on her face, but at the looks of fear that flashed across their faces, she couldn’t keep it up, breaking into an enormous smile, and chuckling, she gave her official approval, stating that they could have time off to do it at home in London if they chose, or here at the manor. They both mentioned wanting a very small quiet ceremony at the manor with only the priest and the duke and duchess for witnesses if they were amenable. Nicole mentioned it would be their pleasure and the two of them grinned enormously and said they wished to be married tomorrow. The duke heartily gave her assent, and it was then that Grace shooed James out of the library, mentioning that she wanted to discuss something with Nicole in private. James, ecstatically happy with the knowledge of his nuptials the next day, all but ran out the door, at least remembering to shut it behind him.

Grace turned to the duke, the adoring smile that had been in her cerulean eyes watching her fiancé rush out of the room, fading from her face to be replaced by a look of worry.

“Your Grace, about earlier…”

“Grace, you needn’t worry. I have every intention of telling Waverly when I return from town in a few days.”

“That is good, Your Grace. Spouses should never have secrets between them,” Nicole cringed internally at Grace’s remonstrance, remembering the biggest secret of all being the minor fact that she was from the future. “And I cannot imagine anythin’ worse than Her Grace findin’ out from anyone but you.”

The redhead stood up and took the maid’s hands in hers, squeezing them warmly. “Grace, you have my word. I have no desire to keep this secret from her any longer. I will tell her when I get back, but aside from her, no one else must ever find out. It is a secret that could destroy me at court.”

She nodded, but a look of discomfort and guilt furrowed her brow. “Your Grace, what about James? I do not want to keep secrets from my husband…”

“Grace, you may tell James once you are married, but make sure he understands the volatility of this secret.”

Immediately her face relaxed and she agreed that they would both keep Nicole’s secret, and with a curtsey, she left the study, presumably to go find her husband-to-be. The redhead couldn’t read after that, her mind whirling with everything, so she went up to join Waverly in bed. The brunette was awake reading a book by candlelight, and Nicole informed her of James and Grace’s wedding to occur tomorrow. With an enormous grin on her face, she said she would notify the priest.

Sure enough, the next afternoon, shortly after lunch, James, Waverly, and the duke were gathered around the priest on the manor’s spacious back patio, but all eyes were on Grace who walked slowly toward them in a beautiful dress of the lightest green fabric. Nicole glanced at James, whose mahogany eyes shown brightly with happiness and pride, and then at Waverly, standing by the duke’s side, her arm in hers. The brunette met Nicole’s brown eyes and whispered, “I had a spare bolt lying around, so I had the girls working on it almost all night long so it would be ready for her.” Smiling, the redhead brought her kind wife’s hand up to her mouth to place a light kiss on her knuckles, before turning her attention to the blushing bride. The entire ceremony passed quickly compared to Nicole’s wedding to Waverly; the priest murmured Biblical lines and before she knew it, James and Grace were husband and wife. That night the duke had supper delivered up to the newlyweds’ room and they didn’t see hide nor tail of them until bright and early the next day.

Nicole had just climbed up onto Shadow, her lips still tingling from having given Waverly a _very_ fond farewell that morning, when James came running out. She looked down at him from on top of Shadow, and he gasped out, “My Lord, should I not accompany you into town?”

“No, no, James. It is a simple enough trip and I will be back tomorrow. Go back to your wife, she needs you more than I right now.” Nicole winked at him and the boy, now a happily married man, had a shit-eating grin on his face, but he stood at attention seeing the duke off until she was through the manor gates.

It was a pleasant ride back to London, and Nicole had more than enough time to think of several different ways of how to tell Waverly the truth, but upon arrival outside the White Dragon there was no more time for such thoughts. Everyone was rushing around, setting up decorations, cleaning, sweeping, moving tables and chairs to the side. A priest was up front conferring with Randy, who looked much better, but still leaned a little on a chair for stability, although that might have been more from ale, as one friendly neighbor took an empty tankard out of his hand and pressed a full one into it with a laugh. Gus, Michelle’s sister, was bustling around the kitchen, ordering people about, when she spotted the duke. “Yer Grace!” She hollered and curtseyed, but went right back to waving about a giant spoon, using it like a conductor’s baton or possibly a police nightstick.

Chrissy came into the room, directing people around as well, but held up short when she caught sight of the redhead. The duke smiled warmly at the blonde, and with a laugh, Chrissy bolted into Nicole’s arms for a big hug. Randy managed to extricate himself from the priest and called out, “Nic!” and bowed before walking up to the duke and clasping her forearm tightly.

“Randy! I’ve brought you a wedding gift!” Nicole pulled out a small pouch of coins, and pressed it into his hands. He spluttered and tried to protest, stating that her help with his illness had him forever in the duke’s debt, but the redhead just curled his fingers around the pouch, insisting that he accept the gift.

With a blush, he coughed and turned around to holler that someone get the Duke Davis an ale. Three people all rushed for the bar to pour the redhead an ale, but it was a man around Randy’s age, the tanner if Nicole remembered correctly, with her next breath the smell that assailed the teen’s nostrils confirmed her suspicions, pressed a tankard of ale into her hands with a slight bow.

The wedding passed in a blur, but probably helped in large part by the copious amounts of ale the duke was supplied with all day and night. Nearly every dance was claimed by Chrissy, with one for Michelle, and a few for other ladies of the town, but inevitably, the redhead would end up partnered with the blonde again. Randy looked ecstatic and gazed happily into Michelle’s eyes all night. The two were a well-matched pair, and Nicole caught Chrissy eyeing them several times through the night. Spying her chance, the duke waved Randy over to sit with them, while Michelle was speaking with her sister, Gus.

“Randy. Chrissy. I have something I would like to discuss with you both. I have been thinking about this for a while, and have secured the acceptance of my wife. Chrissy, would you like to come be a lady’s maid for the Duchess Waverly? It is a rise in station and I will sponsor you to ensure you make a good match. I even have a sizeable dowry set aside for when you choose someone.” Randy’s jaw dropped and his eyes grew big as saucers, as his lips curled into a broad grin. The redhead looked deep into Chrissy’s shocked blue eyes, trying to read them as she continued, “Your father and Michelle are well-matched and can run the Dragon and look after each other, but I can understand that this would be a big change for you.”

The blonde truly thought about it for several long moments before answering, even looking at her father to gauge his opinion, but when he only nodded with a giant smile on his face, she responded, “Thank you, Nic. I accept your offer, and while I will miss my father and the Dragon, this is an opportunity that will never come about again.” And with that she smiled brightly at the duke, blue eyes whirling with excitement.

Randy laughed, and hugged her. “Chrissy, my girl! This is something I could have never dreamed of for you! Thank you, Nic! Once again, you are too good to me and my family!” He directed his attention to Chrissy again, “Chrissy, I will miss you, but you can come visit anytime.” The duke nodded emphatically and agreed that the blonde could visit whenever she wanted.

It wasn’t long after that conversation that the redhead wandered up the stairs to her old room and knocked out on the bed. She awoke suddenly, unsure how much time had passed, unsure what had awoken her, until she heard furious voices, loudly whispering to be heard over the music still going on downstairs. The duke was going to roll over and go back to sleep when one of the voices raised loud enough for Nicole to hear it was Chrissy’s voice. “Stop, Malcolm! Let me go!”

She flew out of bed and flung open the door to the hallway, startling a bleary-eyed drunk man who had his hand wrapped tight around Chrissy’s wrist. The blonde spun around as best she could with his grip on her arm and Nicole saw a look of relief, mixed with sadness, maybe even shame cross her face when she saw the redhead. The duke’s eyes went from the drunk’s hand on the blonde’s wrist, to his slowly blinking eyes, her face, back to his hand on her wrist to his eyes. With a cold fury roiling in her voice, Nicole said, “Malcolm, is it? Take your hand off her now.”

He blinked, but his features hardened into a sneer, “Mind yer own business!” and with that he wrenched on Chrissy’s wrist, trying to tug her down the hallway. Nicole darted forward and grabbing the drunk’s thumb, wrenched it back until it popped and he released Chrissy’s wrist with a cry of pain. He keened as he curled protectively around his injured hand, but in her fury, Nicole shoved him hard against the wall where he crumpled into a heap. Chrissy was rubbing her suddenly free wrist, as Nicole saw the drunk rise angrily, but unsteadily, out of the corner of her eye. The irate duke began to turn to face the threat, when Chrissy shoved herself in front of the redhead between Malcolm and the teen and hissed furiously into Malcolm’s face, “He is a Duke, Malcolm! Do not touch him!”

That seemed to bring Malcolm to his senses. He blinked, and a scared look crossed his face. “Yer Grace,” he bowed sloppily. “I apologize. I…I…”

The redhead cut across his stuttering, “Malcolm, go to sleep. You have had too much to drink, but I hope to never hear again that you laid a hand on a woman against her will.” With that, Nicole wrapped an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders, only then noticing her shivering, with shock or adrenaline she wasn’t sure.

“Yes, yes, Yer Grace, I am sorry.” He kept bowing and backing away, tripping himself up, before fleeing back down the stairs and out the front door. Nicole turned to look at the blonde, who was absentmindedly looking at the door he scurried through, rubbing her wrist. The redhead pulled her into the light, and hissed in anger when she saw the angry red and purple finger marks on her wrist. Keeping her arm around the blonde’s shoulders, her shivers starting to subside, Nicole led her down the stairs, past the passed out drunks and cavorting people into the kitchen, where she dipped a rag in cool water and wrapped it around her wrist. It was Chrissy’s turn to hiss, this time in pain, and her shivers began anew, so Nicole hugged her tightly. The redhead became aware of silent sobs, and a wetness soaking through her shirt, so she hugged Chrissy tighter. Randy stumbled around the corner with Michelle in tow, grabbed a loaf of bread and was on his way back out and most likely upstairs when Michelle spotted the two in an embrace. She sent Randy on ahead and walked towards them, her narrowed eyes darting back and forth between a sobbing Chrissy and her wrapped wrist, and the tall duke. A flinty look entered her eyes and Nicole saw her square her shoulders, but before she could draw a breath to chew the duke out, Nicole cut her off.

“It wasn’t me, Michelle. It was someone named Malcolm."

Her mouth closed, and she looked at Chrissy, who sniffled and nodded meekly. “Malcolm Ramaker, the cabbage merchant?” Chrissy nodded again. Michelle set her lips in a grim line, walked over and unwrapped Chrissy’s wrist, looked at the bruises and set to work grinding up a number of herbs. She dipped Chrissy’s rag in the cool water again and set the herbs in it, then wrapped it around her wrist, where she held it for an extra moment, then kissed Chrissy on the forehead. “We’ll nae be doin’ business with him again, girl, I can promise ye tha’.” She then looked Nicole in the eyes, and apparently seeing what she was looking for, nodded curtly and followed her new husband back out into the hubbub. 

At this point, Chrissy’s sobs had devolved into sniffles and she let Nicole lead her back upstairs. When the redhead tried to say goodbye to Chrissy outside of her room, her eyes grew big and she clung to Nicole’s arm, so she followed the duke into her old room, and they locked the door. Almost immediately, the blonde fell asleep curled up against the strong redhead, but Nicole found it more difficult to go to sleep, feeling guilty knowing Waverly would be uncomfortable with the duke even sleeping in the same bed as her former lover. So she took a pillow and a blanket and laid down on the floor in front of the door.

In the early hours of the morning, Nicole woke up to Chrissy whimpering in pain in her sleep; her wrist was an angrier red and purple than the previous night. Michelle’s compress had fallen off in the night, so the redhead dipped it in the cool water of her wash basin and wrapped it around Chrissy’s wrist, at which she calmed. Nicole went downstairs to try and find something in the way of breakfast, apparently not the only one, judging by the six or so bleary-eyed people at tables, the majority clutching their heads with one hand, shoveling porridge into their mouths with the other. Nicole sat down at a table as Gus bustled out from the kitchen. Taking one look at the duke, she harrumphed and went back into the kitchen. Several minutes later the cook came back out with eggs and beans and a slice of toast with fresh butter on it, and slapped it down in front of the redhead, then plopped herself down at the table.

Nicole mumbled her thanks, still intimidated by Gus, whose eyes were narrowed in suspicion while she watched the duke eat. “So… ye and Chrissy are…” she started, but the redhead interrupted with, “No longer an item. Not for a long time, well before the Duchess and I even met.” She harrumphed again, but seemed to accept it. The teen continued eating in silence until Gus began again. “So… I heard from my sister that yer takin’ Chrissy to be a lady’s maid for the Duchess?” Nicole nodded, unable to swallow her food fast enough, but again that seemed to be good enough for the cook. With a curt nod, she stood up from the table, cleared Nicole’s barely finished plate, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Chrissy came downstairs and headed straight to the kitchen, and came back out with a glass of milk as her breakfast. She plopped herself down at the redhead’s table, still wearing the cooling rag around her wrist. Nicole let her sit in silence for a few moments while she sipped on her milk, but the day was already creeping towards noon, and she wanted to be back home at the manor.

“Chrissy,” Nicole started, and the blonde put down her milk. “We will need to be on our way soon, so after you finish that, make sure to go pack whatever you want to bring with you. Remember, however, that you will be back to visit, so be sure not to overload yourself. I am going to fetch us a carriage to take us out to the manor.”

She nodded and finished off the last of her milk, then dashed upstairs. The redhead stepped outside, and found a street urchin. She handed him the buttered slice of bread from her breakfast and a coin with the instruction to bring back a carriage driver to take them out of the city. He nodded, swiping the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his dirty hand, the only evidence of the hastily consumed bread, and took off. Venturing back inside, she sat down and enjoyed an ale, a little hair of the dog that bit her, as she watched people come and go. About a half an hour later, Chrissy was walking down the stairs in a dress with sleeves, presumably to cover her wrist, and a large bag. Nicole hopped up, and took the bag from her, but set it down so they could say their goodbyes to the newlyweds. Randy hugged Chrissy tightly, and clasped Nicole’s hand just as firmly, telling her that he would see that Shadow was brought back to Whitehall’s stables. Michelle even had a tight hug for Chrissy, and pressed a damp cloth filled with the same herbs from last night into her hands. She curtseyed to the duke, but her narrowed eyes warned Nicole to take care of Chrissy, else risk her wrath. With a small shudder, she looked over Michelle’s shoulder, and Gus was standing in the entryway to the kitchen with her arms crossed and giant spoon clutched tightly in her hand, watching with a steely gaze. The duke nodded her goodbye to the cook and Michelle before she and Chrissy walked outside where the urchin was waiting with a carriage. The duke paid the boy another coin and the carriage driver loaded Chrissy’s bag, and they started on their way out of town. It was a silent ride most of the way back, with Chrissy staring out the window at London getting smaller and smaller behind them.

The blonde gave a tiny clear of her throat, and glancing at Nicole, asked, “So what is your wife like?” Chrissy’s sharp blue eyes picked up on the small smile that crossed the redhead’s face as she started describing the duchess. “Well, Waverly is one of Her Majesty’s ladies in waiting, in fact she’s her Maid of Honour and chief among them. She’s kind and fair, but quick-tempered and stubborn as you wouldn’t believe. She can be funny, and oh she is so smart. She reads for hours, and gets this cute little crinkle between her hazel eyes as she concentrates on what she’s reading. Those same eyes will flash with mischief or burn with fire…” Nicole trailed off, and cleared her throat as she realized these might not be the things her former lover wants to hear about her wife. A glance at the blonde proved her right in the pained set of her jaw, and those expressive cerulean pools were back to gazing out the window. Reaching a hand to cover Chrissy’s white-knuckled clasped fingers, Nicole murmured, “Chrissy, she will be fair to you, I promise. She is genuinely kind, despite her temper.” The redhead chuckled as she relayed the memory of Waverly assuming Chrissy was pregnant with her bastard. “She even agreed to bring you on at my request, despite her assumption that you were pregnant with my child.”

The blonde snorted in disbelief at the concept, but glanced back at the duke with confusion whirling in her azure depths. “But how can she possibly think I’m pregnant with your bastard? Does she still not know the truth?”

The redhead’s face fell, and it was her turn to direct her guilty gaze out the window at the passing countryside. “She does not yet know. I intend to tell her when we get to the house. I’m not at all sure how she’ll take it.” The redhead bit her lip in her worry, but glanced at Chrissy, finding sympathy, pity, and pain for Nicole’s predicament in her blue orbs. The rest of the trip passed in silence, both lost in their thoughts.

Eventually they reached the manor, passing under the archway and into the inner courtyard, before the carriage driver opened the door and tossed Chrissy’s bag to a waiting groom. Hopping out of the carriage, the redhead turned to offer the blonde a hand to help her down. With her safely on the ground, the duke turned around and gulped audibly as she noticed her diminutive but feisty wife was standing in the doorway to the manor, stormy hazel eyes darting between Chrissy and Nicole, normally plump lips pressed tightly into a thin line. Grace and Mary were lined up behind her, standing at attention. Chrissy must have heard the redhead’s gulp because she took one look at Waverly and stepped back behind Nicole in fear. Chin lifting in the air as she straightened her spine out, the duke stepped out from in front of the blonde and took her uninjured arm and placed it in hers, with nothing to hide, they walked her up to the duchess.

“Waverly, this is Chrissy. Chrissy, this is my wife, the Lady Waverly, Duchess of Davis and York, Countess of Devonshire.” The blonde curtseyed very deep, head down, not meeting Waverly’s sharp green eyes, and when she came up, she kept her blue eyes down, but didn’t take Nicole’s arm again. It hurt Nicole to see her proud Chrissy so unsure of herself, and for the first time the redhead started to doubt the efficacy of her plan.

Waverly, a noble through and through, greeted Chrissy politely. “Hello, Chrissy, it is wonderful to make your acquaintance. I hope you will be very happy here.” Chrissy curtseyed again, but in pulling out her skirts, her sleeve rose up and exposed the vivid bruise on her wrist. The blonde tried to tug her sleeve back down, but Waverly snatched her arm impossibly fast, and gently pulled the garment up exposing the finger marks entirely. 

She looked at Nicole and the duke answered her unspoken question. “At the wedding, a man had too much to drink and would not take no for an answer.” 

Waverly’s face crumpled in sympathy and she looked at Chrissy for confirmation, and the blonde blushed with shame, but responded, “Yes, but Nic, I mean His Grace, stepped in and saved me before it got too bad.” 

Waverly quirked her eyebrow at Chrissy’s use of Nicole’s name, but called back towards the house, “Grace, can you come out here?” Grace scurried outside, and curtseyed to Waverly. “Grace, this is Chrissy. Could you show her around and please get a cool compress on her wrist?” Grace’s blue eyes darted to Chrissy’s wrist and went round in shock. She guided Chrissy inside and Nicole was left alone outside with her wife.

The brunette lifted her eyebrow as she asked the tall redhead haughtily, “So, husband, did you enjoy yourself in London?” With a laugh, Nicole was unable to keep away from Waverly any longer, and leaped up the steps to sweep her wife into a hug. She kissed her deeply and could feel the duchess smile against her lips, responding to the kiss and hugging her tightly. “I missed you.” Nicole murmured into those soft, plump lips. She just smiled and kissed the duke again, softer and deeper, showing Nicole she missed her spouse, too. They walked into the house to find supper waiting; it was a quiet supper and afterwards, Nicole went into the library to finally look at those financial papers regarding her new lands and title. But again, she didn’t get the chance to read them. Chrissy knocked softly on the doorjamb and leaned her head in.

“Chrissy, come in. How’s your wrist?” The duke set the papers aside and stood up from her desk.

“Oh much better. Thank you, Nic, I mean, Your Grace.” She blushed and looked down so meekly when she let Nicole’s name slip that it broke the redhead’s heart. The duke walked over to her and tilted her head up so she could look the blonde in the eyes.

“Chrissy, when it is just the two of us, you can still call me ‘Nic’.”

Unfortunately, it was at this moment that Waverly walked in looking for her spouse. She stopped short at the sight of Nicole with her fingers under Chrissy’s chin, tilting her head up into what looked very much like a kiss. Her court mask fell into place, making it impossible for the redhead to read her. Nicole immediately let go of Chrissy and stepped back and the blonde looked at the floor again, blushing fiercely.

“Waves, this wasn’t what it looked like…” The redhead started to say, but the irate brunette cut her off with an angry tirade as her courtly mask cracked and she screamed, “You promised me that she was not your mistress!”

“She’s not…” Nicole tried to defend herself. “I trusted you!” At that the teen flinched, knowing she hadn’t earned it with her secrets. “Is she pregnant with your bastard?!” Chrissy looked up in shock at that, before she glanced between the duke and duchess, her mouth open to ask a question. Nicole cut the blonde off and told her, “She doesn’t know yet, Chrissy, I was going to tell her tonight.” Which of course was misconstrued by Waverly, who recommenced screaming and calling the duke horrible names, and telling Nicole that she would not have her husband’s bastard under her roof. Grace chose this moment to duck in to see what all of the ruckus was about, and she must have heard the last part of it because her lips pressed into a tight line and she gave Nicole a look that said _tell her_. Nicole voiced her answer aloud, “Grace, will you take Chrissy and shut the door behind you?” Grace gave the duke that look again, to which the tall redhead nodded, “I will tell her now.”

Waverly grew quiet in what was now a simmering rage, her frosty green eyes darting between her spouse, Chrissy, Grace, Grace’s stomach, Chrissy’s stomach, and back to Nicole again, in ever faster circles, with ever more ice cold fury in the glares directed at the duke. The redhead sighed as Grace, leading Chrissy, closed the door, both of them shooting Nicole sympathetic glances.

“Waves,” the redhead started, taking a step towards her wife with her arms outstretched, but the brunette only stepped away, not wanting to be touched by the duke. “Waverly, I told you the truth. Chrissy is not pregnant with my child, nor is Grace, because I can see you questioning it even now. It is completely impossible.”

“I find that hard to believe, Nic! You have never let me touch you since our wedding night,” she sat down hard on the arm of a chair, beginning to sob. “Am I too ugly? Or is it because you are finding what you need in the arms of other women?” The distraught brunette screeched the last question at the duke.

The tall redhead stepped towards her again, and the duchess didn’t shrink away this time, only sobbed harder. Her pain was breaking Nicole’s heart, and the teen was cursing herself for being such a fool. She should have told her wife sooner rather than let her build up all this pain and doubt inside. “Waves,” Nicole’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat again, taking another step closer to her love. “Waves, I have been with no woman but you since I met you. I love you, and only you, and you are the only woman for me. Grace and Chrissy are not pregnant with my children, it isn’t even possible.”

“And why isn’t it possible, Nic?!” She sobbed at the duke.

“Waves, I am so sorry. I should have told you sooner. I should not have let you develop such pain and sorrow; it all would have been sorted if I was brave enough to tell you earlier.” Nicole started to cry now, too, which is what really gave the duchess pause. “I was so afraid you would change how you feel about me, and I love you so much, and God forbid the court ever find out the truth…” The redhead paused, too scared to go on, and the anger rekindled in Waverly’s hazel eyes, as she started pounding her fists on Nicole’s chest, and the redhead slapped her hands over Waverly’s, pressing them tight over Nicole’s breasts. At first the brunette’s hands struggled, trying to continue hitting the duke, but they slowed, and started exploring what the brunette couldn’t believe to be there. She looked Nicole in the eyes, understanding and confusion dawning at the same time in her green ones. “Yes, Waverly. I am a woman. But this court is no place for a female duke, so I hid my gender this whole time. It is why I have been distant in the marital bed, and it is why Chrissy cannot be pregnant with my child, nor Grace.”

Waverly’s hands stilled on the redhead’s breasts before sliding down the duke’s front to hang limply on her lap. She looked at Nicole in shock, and the redhead could feel the tears welling in her brown eyes anew, starting to spill over and descend down her cheeks in hot torrents. The duke looked deep in Waverly’s hazel eyes, confusion, shock, and hurt swirling in them, hoping to see a shadow of the love they had shared before the announcement, hoping the brunette could still love her, even daring to hope that they could go back to what they were and possibly be even better with such a huge secret no longer between them. 

The most heartbreaking thing Nicole has ever experienced was the wife she loved more than life itself, stand up, smooth her skirts, turn her back on her, and walk out of the library, head held high, without a word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've always hated being left on a cliffhanger myself, but I must admit, this was too tantalizing to pass up.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I was specifically instructed by several of you not to take too long in ending the cliffhanger, so here you go. Thanks for the patience! And for those of you that were less patient, the threats of bodily harm were quite fun!

The redhead collapsed in unimaginable pain in the plush armchair in front of the roaring fire and had never felt so cold. A river of ice water had replaced the blood in her veins, and she was in shock, the tears continuing their scorching descent down her cheeks, trails of fire, the only warmth she could feel. A few minutes, or possibly hours, later, Grace and Chrissy stuck their heads around the door and came to join the duke. Chrissy poured Nicole a drink and wrapped the redhead’s numb fingers around it, guiding it to her lips. Grace watched in silence for a moment, before she slipped out of the room. Nicole now had a new sense of warmth, of fire, the whiskey burning its way from her mouth, down her throat to pool in her stomach. The teen looked at Chrissy, sweet Chrissy, who had cared for Nicole when she was nothing, who had accepted her, and probably even loved her, not demanding anything, not expecting anything, and Nicole was so ashamed of how she had left the blonde behind without a word of goodbye. She deserved better than that. 

Nicole took Chrissy’s hand and brought it up to her face, pressing the blonde’s palm against her cold cheek. The redhead could see the ember of hope and love kindle in the blonde’s face, but Nicole would not lead her on again. Her heart, for better or for worse, belonged to Waverly, and Chrissy didn’t deserve a shadow, someone who would always miss her one true love. So Nicole kissed her palm, curled Chrissy’s fingers around the kiss, and placed her hand back in her lap. Nicole saw that spark of hope smother, and while it singed her heart, but the duke knew it was for the best. She went back to drinking her whiskey, which Chrissy dutifully refilled and she sat with Nicole in silence for hours, until Grace beckoned the blonde from the doorway to bed.

The fire had almost burned down, Nicole’s red eyes dry and itchy from all the tears she had cried out, when the study door creaked open again. The redhead didn’t even look up, sure it was Grace or Chrissy, but the hand that reached into her line of sight and took Nicole’s half filled glass of whiskey was not rough and calloused like Chrissy and Grace’s. So those brown eyes followed the long thin fingers and slim wrist and forearm as they brought the tumbler of whiskey to Waverly’s lips, tiny pink tongue darting out to wet her lips before she downed it like a champ, then set it back down on the end table. But Nicole’s eyes were glued to hers, also blurry, swollen and red with tears. Looking deep into brown eyes, all the brunette said was, “You are beautiful when you cry.” Which is kind of a creepy thing to say to someone. Waverly took Nicole’s hand and pulled her up out of the chair. The redhead hadn’t breathed since she recognized those fingers, and Nicole was getting dizzy from oxygen deprivation, but she couldn’t bring herself to take a breath, afraid she would break some bittersweet spell. The brunette looked at Nicole’s lips and back up to mocha eyes, then ever so slowly, leaned forward, pressing her lips against Nicole’s in a chaste kiss. The redhead barely responded, but when the duchess pressed her lips to hers again, this time in a deeper kiss, it was like a breath of fresh air had forced its way past Nicole’s lips and into her lungs. Gasping, the redhead responded to her wife’s kiss with a starved desperation, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s thin frame as the brunette tangled her hands in copper locks. An eternity passed, yet it could not have been long enough, and Waverly was pulling away.

Leaning her forehead against the tall redhead’s chin as she pressed a soft kiss to the brunette’s forehead, Waverly sighed and said, “Nic, I love you. I am sorry that it took me so long to realize it and that you had to sit here all these hours in heartbreak, thinking I had abandoned you, but I just needed time to think. It was a huge shock, but it was actually Grace who forced me to acknowledge that I love you for you. For the kindness you show, not just to me, but to everyone. For how clever and quick-witted you are. For your generosity. For your strength. All aspects that have nothing to do with male or female parts. I love you, Nic, and I promise I will always love you, no matter what.” The duchess took Nicole’s left hand in hers, curling those nail-bitten fingers into a slack fist as she dusted kisses over her knuckles. “We will keep your secret from court together because to me you are Nic, my friend, my love, my husband.” The couple kissed again, both crying, their tears mingling together on their lips, tongues working overtime to catch everything yet also share the promise of love, giving and taking, but always sharing. Without breaking the kiss, the brunette pushed Nicole back down into the chair and climbed into her lap.

For the first time in their marriage, Waverly and Nicole let their hands wander freely. The redhead didn’t have to split her concentration and make sure her wife didn’t find what she wasn’t supposed to. The kisses intensified as their breathing sped up, Waverly’s tongue exploring Nicole’s mouth, demanding more as it slipped along Nicole’s own, working its way deeper and deeper. The duchess’ hands were gripping the redhead’s hips with a strength intensified by passion, but her arms were in Nicole’s way and she needed to touch her wife; Nicole batted them away, pulling Waverly tight against her with one arm, using her other hand to undo the laces on the back of the brunette’s dress. With the duchess pressed so hard against her, Waverly had to content herself with kissing Nicole’s neck. The damned laces were harder to undo than a bra, but the brunette didn’t seem to mind how long it was taking. Her kisses turned into long, languorous licks, punctuated by bites and hard sucks, eliciting moans deep within the redhead’s throat. The bites and sucks were turning Nicole into Jello, stilling the efficacy of her fingers which fumbled more and more eagerly at those laces. Eventually, through some guidance from the powers above, the duke got the damned things undone. Waverly abruptly shoved away from Nicole, and the redhead had a flash of concern that she was regretting her choice, but the brunette stared Nicole in the eyes with a mischievous smile on her face as she slid the dress down over her shoulders and shimmied it over her hips. She stood and stepped out of the pool of dark green fabric that was now her dress. Then she shivered in her thin shift, the cool of the room as the embers of the fire glowed faintly in the fireplace causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. Nicole stepped towards her, wrapping the brunette in her arms for warmth. Waverly leaned back in her arms, raising her hands to undo the lacings on Nicole’s doublet, but she paused as she was lifting it up, uncertainty and hesitation in her eyes as she stared at the redhead’s chest. The redhead lifted those hands, bringing them to her face to kiss her knuckles and Nicole saw the certainty of love return to her eyes. The duke lifted the doublet off herself, pulling her undershirt off as well in the process. She now stood before her wife for the first time in trousers and a sports bra. Green eyes were riveted to the sports bra, coming to terms with what had previously only been imagined. The teen stood completely still, just watching her wife, waiting for her to make the first move. It was only a few moments, but her heart did not beat once the whole time she was waiting for Waverly, watching emotions she couldn’t read flit across her face. Finally, the brunette stepped forward, placed her hand on Nicole’s stomach, and slowly slid up. It crested up over Nicole’s breast, brushing ever so lightly over her tightened nipple, which the redhead knew was peeking through the sportsbra, and continued its way up to the back of her neck, where she tangled her fingers in fiery curls and pulled Nicole in for a slow, probing kiss. The duke’s heart jump-started, beginning to beat again, as she responded in kind, pulling Waverly against her and sliding calloused hands down her waist, over her thighs, and trailing her fingers back up, dragging the brunette’s linen shift higher and higher. The duchess broke off the kiss suddenly, pulling away from Nicole’s fingers so that her shift slipped back down.

The brunette was blushing furiously as she said, “We can’t, Nic. Not here, anyone could walk in.” She bent down to pick up her dress, but the redhead snagged her hand. “Leave it. We’ll go to our room.”

“I don’t want anyone to see me in my underclothes.”

Smiling, the redhead walked over to the basin of water and sprinkled the nearly dead embers, which went out with a fizzle and puff of smoke. “Take that candle off the desk, darling.” Waverly was watching Nicole with curiosity blatant in her hazel eyes, but did as she was instructed. Nicole twitched the cherub aside and the back of the fireplace cracked open leading to her now not-so-secret passageway as she heard Waverly’s sharp intake of breath behind her.

Turning, she saw Waverly eyeing the new passageway with open curiosity. With a tiny gasp from plump, kiss-swollen lips, Nicole swept the brunette up into her arms and carried her over the now cold embers and through the secret passageway, tapping the door shut behind her with a foot, and headed into the secret study within. The duke set her wife down and Waverly looked all around in awe.

“You’ve known about this for how long?” She walked along the walls, trailing her long fingers over the books and scrolls.

“Since we moved in. A servant pointed it out to me. But here there is privacy, or we can continue down that corridor” Nicole gestured at the hallway leading towards their bedroom. “And it leads to our room. We enter out through the portrait of King Henry VIII.”

Waverly turned towards one of the armchairs, where Nicole had laid out the backpack holding her pads and a certain strap-on. She looked at the redhead, an unvoiced question in her hazel eyes and the duke just nodded. The brunette set down her candle and opened the backpack. One by one, she pulled out the pads, at which point Nicole had to explain what they were and how they worked, until she came to the strap-on. She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands, trailing her fingers down the straps.

“Is this what you used on our wedding night?” She looked at Nicole in question, and the redhead shifted her weight in embarrassment.

“Yes it was. We can use it anytime you want in the future now that you know the truth.” The duke was a little uncertain if this would be the thing that pushed her wife over the edge into discomfort.

The duchess gave Nicole the most shit-eating grin and said, “No, you did better every other time since the wedding. Apparently you manage well enough with your fingers and mouth.” Her grin widened mischievously, hazel eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “I might need my memory refreshed, however…”

It is at this point, that we would like to again warn you prudes, go directly to Chapter Seventeen.

Nicole couldn’t help the feral smile that crossed her face and she stepped towards her wife. Waverly turned and fled away from Nicole giggling as the redhead chased her down the hallway that led to their bedroom. She stepped out, closing Henry VIII behind her, to find her sexy wife sitting on the edge of their bed, staring at Nicole with smoldering emerald eyes. The redhead walked over to her and leaned down to kiss her, but the brunette only let Nicole get one kiss in before she tilted her head down, kissing her way down Nicole’s jaw and neck, nipping along her clavicle and even planting a kiss just above the line of the sportsbra. She slid it up, slowly exposing inch by inch of the redhead’s breasts. The brunette stamped a kiss on Nicole’s ribcage, a kiss on the bit of her breast exposed underneath the sportsbra, straining to be free, and with the tiniest tug, her breasts bounced free. Waverly stared at her nipple, now freed from the confines of the sportsbra and Nicole finally saw the flash of uncertainty she was on the lookout for. She pulled her sportsbra off and tugged the brunette up onto her feet. This time it was Nicole’s turn to kiss her way along her wife’s jaw, nipping her way down the brunette’s neck earning soft moans with every nip and lick. She slid her fingers down her thighs and bunched up the fabric of the brunette’s shift, then slowly dragged it higher and higher. The redhead bit and sucked harder on her neck as Waverly cradled Nicole’s head, tugging on her hair just the tiniest bit to guide Nicole in pressure. The duke had the shift all the way over her wife’s hips, and with a final, long lick up her neck, she pulled the shift up and off the brunette. She now stood before Nicole as gloriously beautiful as ever and the firelight glinted off her skin, casting some parts in a golden glow and some parts in shadow. The duchess’ nipples were taut and Nicole absolutely needed them in her mouth, so she took one in her mouth, licking and sucking it while her whole hand was wrapped around the same breast, massaging it. She nipped it, rolling it lightly in her teeth and Waverly sucked in a breath and wound her fingers through red hair, cradling Nicole’s head to her breast. 

Never breaking her hold on the nipple in her mouth, she let go of Waverly’s breast with her hand, and using both hands, lifted her; the brunette took the hint and wrapped her legs around Nicole’s waist so she could continue lavishing attention on those full breasts without hurting her neck. The redhead decided it was time to show the other nipple some attention, so she took her mouth off and it was swollen with blood, more taut than before. She licked and blew softly on it, chuckling at Waverly’s tiny gasp in response. Nicole didn’t get to show the brunette’s other nipple as much attention as she had hoped because she felt the duchess’ fingers under her chin, tugging upwards. As soon as her mouth popped free and her head tilted up, the brunette latched onto Nicole’s mouth, sliding her tongue along hers and sucking on it lightly. 

Waverly loosened her hold on Nicole’s waist with her legs so the redhead let her climb down. The brunette stood staring at Nicole’s breasts, both hands lightly tracing their palms over erect nipples, teasing them ever so slightly, followed up by a soft kiss to each one, which elicited a soft moan of pleasure from the redhead’s throat. The duchess smiled up at Nicole and kissed harder, licking her tongue around the areola, barely brushing the nipple. When that elicited a deeper moan from her spouse, the brunette bit down lightly, rolling the nipple between her teeth as Nicole had to her, but slightly harder than she expected. The duke hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and the brunette immediately backed away, guilt and insecurity written on her face. Nicole stepped in and kissed her, trying to bring her back into a familiar comfort zone, only pulling away to breathe, “It was just a little hard, darling. Otherwise, I very much enjoyed that.” Hazel eyes crinkling as she smiled, she slid her hands over Nicole’s waist, but seemed surprised when she encountered pants. The redhead chuckled and Waverly undid the trousers, pushing them down over her hips, and Nicole watched her green eyes trace a line down her stomach to Nicole’s very closely trimmed patch of red-gold hair down there. She looked back up at the duke, but the redhead didn’t see the discomfort she was worried about, and in fact, Waverly pulled Nicole’s now completely bare flesh against hers. The kissing continued again, deep and languorous as their hands explored each other. Her body now familiar to Nicole’s, but the redhead’s open to exploration for the first time. Waverly spent time playing her hands over the redhead’s ass and breasts, skimming lightly, teasingly, over her stomach and waist. Nicole’s hands were very busy rubbing and kneading their way up and down the brunette’s thighs and over her ass, each squeeze earning her a soft sigh or moan in response. The duke slipped a thigh between the brunette’s legs, earning a gasp from her as she rocked her hips into the leg, rubbing her juices on the redhead’s thigh.

Nicole pushed her hands away and swung the brunette up into her arms to lay her reverently on the bed, and climbed up on with her, laying her body on top of the smaller one while she continued their kisses, again sliding a thigh between the duchess’ so she could take her pleasure. Breathing was getting too fast between the two and Nicole was getting a little dizzy, so she barrel-rolled off of her, but tugged the brunette up on top. She spread her legs, letting the brunette’s thigh nestle against her center as Nicole did to her and Waverly blinked those long eyelashes at the redhead in surprise to feel the wetness coating her leg. The brunette reached between them and swiped a finger along her thigh, then curiously swiped up Nicole’s pussy. When that action pulled a moan from low in the redhead’s throat, she grinned and did it again. Nicole gripped her ass tightly and slid the petite brunette up her body, which in turn brought a gasp from her lips, as Nicole pushed up on Waverly’s upper body, forcing the brunette onto her knees and squirmed her way down between shapely legs. The duchess looked down at Nicole in confusion at her antics, which was wiped off her face the moment Nicole latched her mouth onto the brunette’s dripping center. She licked in long swipes, but focused some short, strong strokes on her clit, remembering to switch it up and lick along the length of her, dipping her tongue inside. Waverly leaned her head back, moaning in pleasure, even beginning to ride Nicole’s face, silently demanding the redhead work her tongue harder on her clit in ever increasingly small circles. Her juices were starting to coat the duke’s chin, working their way down and she couldn’t suck them up fast enough. With her palm pressed firmly against her chin, Nicole slipped her pointer and middle fingers into her and the sudden warmth and wetness around those fingers felt amazing. Waverly gasped and clenched on Nicole’s fingers, flinging her head forward to hunch around those fingers trying to rock back and forth, as well as up and down. The redhead latched her mouth on the duchess’ clit, sucking and running her tongue over the tiny bean, erect with blood, pressing it like a button. She kept her tongue in tempo with her fingers, which pumped in and out of the brunette deep and fast, rubbing above the spongy ridge just inside of her. She desperately tried to keep the pace steady against Waverly’s rocking as she noticed the brunette’s walls fluttering around her fingers. 

Just as Nicole was sure she was going to lose the tempo the brunette flung her honey-brown tresses back, moaning and sobbing as her walls convulsed on the redhead’s fingers and she screamed Nic’s name to the heavens. With a final shudder, the brunette went limp and Nicole had to quickly pull her fingers out and place her hands on her upper and lower back to keep Waverly from falling off. A few moments later, she shook off the cloud and sat up with her own muscles. Blinking slowly the duchess smiled beatifically down at her spouse, her flushed face framed by her soft, golden brown waves of hair. She rolled off, and snuggled up against Nicole’s side, kissing her, apparently not minding the juice coated lips and chin. The brunette played her hand down the redhead’s stomach and over her hip bone, then down her thigh. She trailed her fingers up the inside of that thigh and brushed the back of her hand over Nicole’s now absolutely soaked pussy. Nicole could hear her wife chuckle through the kiss, as she slid her thumb over the redhead’s clit, brushing it in soft strokes. The duke was already throbbing with blood from how aroused she was, so she climaxed quickly, her moans mingling with Waverly’s chuckles as Nicole twitched underneath her. Absolutely spent, the redhead collapsed; too tired to even keep kissing her wife, a sentiment Waverly shared as she snuggled tighter against her. Their sleep that night was peaceful and dreamless as they lay entwined with each other all night.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so due to a quick catch by a reader, I learned I had accidentally posted the chapters out of order. So bonus chapter this week!

Nicole woke up with her right arm asleep underneath Waverly who hadn’t moved since they finished last night. She was still curled up against the redhead’s side, one hand draped over Nicole’s left breast, and her head on Nicole’s shoulder. The duke kissed her honey brown locks and tried to extricate herself quietly, but they were stuck together, the various bodily juices having dried on their skin, fusing them together. The redhead wrenched them apart, but in so doing, woke up Waverly, who blinked sleepily at her wife, but smiled and turned her head up for a kiss, which Nicole indulged in, their lips moving together languidly.

“Sweetheart, I think we need a bath.” The brunette sniffed in response and with a slight stankface nodded in agreement.

Hopping out of bed, Nicole opened the door a crack to holler out the door for a tub and heated water, but Grace was already standing at attention outside with sheets.

“Grace,” the duke spluttered, a little thrown off. “Um, could you bring us a tub and hot water for bathing?” The blonde nodded, with a small smile on her face and passed Nicole the sheets through the door crack.

“These are for the bed, Your Grace. I will bring you others for dryin’ yourselves off with.”

The teen nodded and shut the door, eagerly climbing into bed with her wife to snuggle back up and share the occasional kiss and touch. Maybe a half an hour later, there was a knock on the door and at Nicole’s shouted, “Come in!” Grace, and to the duke’s discomfort, Chrissy, came in carrying steaming buckets of hot water, followed closely by James and a groom carrying a giant tub. The redhead made sure Waverly and herself were covered, but still she saw Chrissy’s glance flick over them and the flash of pain in her blue eyes, but she covered it well and proceeded to dump the hot water into the tub. One after another of hot water was dumped in and the whole time the brunette was snuggled up against Nicole giggling and nuzzling in contentment; Nicole was sure a small, jealous part of her wife was trying to assert to Chrissy that the duke was Waverly’s alone, but the redhead wasn’t going to fight it. She still couldn’t believe how she had lucked out; the woman she loved more than life itself had forgiven her for keeping such a huge secret for so long, not that Nicole had any plans to tell her, “Honey, I’m from the future” so that one was staying under wraps for good.

Finally their bath was ready and they dismissed everyone, climbing into the tub together to lounge in the gloriously hot water and scrub each other clean, as well as get a little frisky as Nicole brought Waverly to climax twice in the warm water. The rest of the day passed in peace; the duke finally looking over those financial papers and Grace took Chrissy under her wing, showing her all the daily things that a lady’s maid had to do. The next day, they packed their essentials and headed back to town, leaving a skeleton crew of servants to run the manor’s upkeep while they returned to court.

The hustle and bustle of court was a culture shock compared to the peace and quiet of the manor house. Everyone was running every which way, but enough grooms stepped forward to help unpack their trunks and Chrissy followed a step behind Waverly carrying a parasol to keep her in the shade until they entered the dim, cool corridors of Whitehall. Chrissy struggled a bit with putting the parasol away and the young black-haired lord who had played on Hardy’s beer pong team stepped forward and with a bow, took the parasol to help fold it in. Chrissy took it with a blush and curtseyed, as the young lord bowed again and stepped away. The redhead managed to keep an even look on her face, but she could see Waverly watching what happened and looking to see Nicole’s reaction. In all honesty, the duke didn’t want to read too much into it, but he had seemed like a nice young man and she wanted Chrissy to be happy and well taken care of. Nicole looked at Waverly who pretended that she hadn’t just been watching the scene and said, “Can you find out about that young man? I want to know who he is, where he is from, what his servants say about him, everything. If he continues to show Chrissy interest, I will need to know if he is to be a good match for her.”

The brunette nodded and they continued back down the corridors. Chrissy, who had been looking at the young man’s retreating form had to hurry to catch up with them. Nicole let Waverly guide them to their new suite of rooms, now larger to reflect her higher station and they now had two households merged together. The couple enjoyed some last minute peace and quiet, as they just sat and enjoyed some cold meat and cheese, while their household unpacked, that is until a page arrived to announce that Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, first of her name, wished to see them immediately. They brushed the crumbs off their clothes, and immediately made for Her Majesty’s suites. 

After they were announced, the doors opened wide to show the Queen sitting at her enormous writing desk. The duke and duchess bowed and curtseyed deep, waiting until she told them to rise and take their seats. She continued scribbling away at a document, never once looking at them and they sat in total silence for several moments, broken only by the scratching of the nub of her quill. Nicole held Waverly’s hand, her thumb caressing the brunette’s knuckles, as they waited, until Her Majesty threw her quill into the inkpot and sprinkled sand on her parchments to dry the ink.

“First, we would like to congratulate you on your recent nuptials. Second, we would like to discuss if there has been any word from your land, Duke Davis.”

Nicole coughed, her throat suddenly bone dry. “Your Majesty. I have heard nothing as of yet and I do not expect to hear back soon. My letters are sent back home by way of Spain, since they are the ones who have colonized the New World. It would take many months for me to hear back from my land via this circuitous route.”

The Queen just nodded her understanding, before turning her attention to Waverly, completely ignoring the duke. “And you, our dear friend, are you happy? How finds you married life?”

Waverly blushed and ducked her head, but squeezed Nicole’s hand and grinned at the Queen, her green eyes crinkling in joy. “I find it suits me, Your Majesty. I am indeed happier than I have ever been.” 

Her Majesty eyed the couple’s clasped hands and harrumphed, but with the hint of a smile on her face. “You may go now. We shall expect you back in your customary spot at our side at the feast tonight, Your Grace.” This was directed at Waverly, who nodded and smiled at her monarch.

The newlyweds started to walk out, but just as they reached the door, Her Majesty called out, “Davis, just a moment. My dear, you can wait outside. You will have your husband back momentarily.” Waverly curtseyed and stepped out, shutting the door behind her. “Your Grace,” The Queen stood up and walked around her desk. “Make sure to take very good care of her. She is a _very_ dear friend of ours.” The redhead heard the warning implicit in the Queen’s voice and nodded her assurances. “Also, be sure to let us know as soon as you receive word from your land. We are eager to begin trade negotiations.” Nicole bowed her assent and with a dismissing flick of the Queen’s wrist, took her leave.

As she stepped outside, the redhead almost ran into the Lady Stephanie who was storming past on her way down the corridor, bright red spots of anger high on her cheekbones, away from Nicole’s wife who was doubled up with laughter a little ways away.

Nicole walked towards Waverly who clutched the redhead’s arm for support, still doubled up with laughter.

“What happened, Your Grace?” The duke asked with a chuckle, her laughter was infectious.

“I apologize, Your Grace. I realize this is not decorous. But,” the duchess straightened up and wiped a tear from her crinkled hazel eye. “The Lady Stephanie approached me with her hand on her tummy and her nose in the air, and tried to tell me she is pregnant with your child.” She devolved back into laughter.

The redhead’s jaw literally dropped from shock. “Waves, I swear I never… I couldn’t… she couldn’t…” Nicole rushed, trying to make sure her wife knew she had never slept with Stephanie.

The brunette put Nicole out of her misery and kissed her lightly on the lips, a smile still playing on her lips, but her laughter quelled for now. “Nic, I know, I know.” She kissed the duke again. “I am ever so glad you told me the truth, because that would have blindsided me otherwise. As it was, I laughed in her face and she stormed away in anger at not getting a rise out of me as she had hoped.”

The redhead smiled at the story, but the smile fell from her face as a thought occurred to her. “Waves, what if you are not the only person she has told? What about our name and dignity? Your honor?”

“Nic, do not worry about our name or my honor. In fact, if it becomes gossip around court, no one will ever guess your secret.” The duke smiled at the ingenuity and loyalty of her wife and stole a long and firm kiss from the marvelous woman.

When they got back to their suite of rooms, they found Hardy in their antechamber in a fireside chair with Grace on his knee, almost in tears, as his meaty paw slid up and down her arm. James was in the corner, fists clenched tightly in rage, brown eyes burning a hole through the back of Hardy’s head. In the moment Nicole paused to take in the situation in the room, James apparently unable to handle a moment more of this, strode up to Hardy and cleared his throat.

“My lord, I think…” but he didn’t get any farther than that because Hardy backhanded him with his heavily bejeweled hand, to which Grace let out an inarticulate cry and Waverly gasped in horror behind the duke.

“You think?! Impertinent pup!” he roared. “Do not presume to speak to me!”

The duke stopped thinking and strode into the room. “How dare you, Hardy?!” The knight shoved Grace off his leg and she landed in a heap on the floor, but immediately began crawling towards James. Hardy was in the process of standing up when Nicole’s fist hit him squarely in the eye. He fell backwards over the chair, taking it down with him, and the irate redhead was already moving around the chair, her fist cocked back for a second hit when Waverly caught Nicole’s fist, holding her back. “Never, _ever_ , touch my servants!” The duke strained against her wife’s hold a bit, staring down at him on the floor as he covered his eye and struggled to get up. “What the _fuck_ ,” Nicole yelled at him, spittle flying out of her mouth. “Are you doing in my rooms?”

Standing and facing the duke, his face almost puce with anger around the purple that was already starting to show around his eye; his fists were shaking with the effort to not clench them, but his voice barely wavered when he replied, “I came to speak with you, man to man,” his gaze glanced at Nicole’s wife behind her, who tilted her chin up and stared him dead in the eye. “About the rumors regarding you being the father of Lady Stephanie’s child.” Nicole noted his smirk as his eyes flitted back to Waverly to gauge her reaction. The duke didn’t even have to turn around to know the brunette was grinning in response, and the redhead smiled as well, grin broadening as she saw his smirk slip in confusion as he glanced between them.

“I will not even dignify these rumors with an answer, Sir Hardy. However, it seems this is something you might wish to take up with the Lady Stephanie herself.” The redhead took Waverly’s hand and pulled her alongside, kissing her knuckles as she did. “Now, get the _fuck_ out of our rooms. The Duchess and I have plans.” Nicole quirked an eyebrow and smirked at Hardy.

His beady eyes hardened at the subtle reminder that Waverly and Nicole were much higher in station and title than him. With a sneer, he bowed stiffly and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. As soon as the door was shut, Waverly rushed to James and Grace’s side.

“James, are you well?!” she asked breathlessly, brushing her fingers over the already purpling cheek, avoiding the cuts on his face from the rings on Hardy’s hand. Grace was sobbing, clutching onto him. Nicole brought the washbasin over to James, dipping a cloth in the cool waters. Waverly took it from her hands and lightly cleaned the blood from his face. His eyes closed at the relief of the cool water on his hot face, wincing when she would brush over the cuts. The duke took Grace into her arms, hugging her and the blonde clung to her sobbing into her shoulder as the redhead stroked her back making the usual “soothing” shushing sound.

“Shh, Grace. It’s okay.” The duke just kept stroking her back as the distraught blonde’s sobs quieted. Waverly was continuing her ministrations with James, but she glanced over at the duke, worry and pain warring on her face. “Grace… Grace…” Nicole tried to get her attention and she pulled away slightly to look at the duke, sniffling piteously as the snot dripped all over her face mingling with her tears. “Grace, I need to know…. What did Hardy do? Did he…?” The redhead stopped unable to continue, but luckily Grace saved her having to.

“No, Your Grace. He did not. He insisted I sit on his leg while he was waitin’ for you to return, but he did not get any farther. He just kept strokin’ my arm tellin’ me how pretty I was and how lucky you were to have a servant as pretty as me.” She hiccoughed at the end of her story, tears starting to stream down her face at the remembered humiliation.

“Shh, Grace, it will all be all right. He will never touch you again. I am going to send you and James back to the manor house. You will be safe there.”

She spluttered in protest. “Your Grace! No! James and I should be here for you and the Duchess Waverly.” She glanced between the two of us.

Waverly turned and replied, “No, Grace. His Grace, the Duke, is correct. You both will be going back to the manor house. We will try to join you as soon as we are able.” When the blonde started to protest again, Waverly cut her off. “You cannot endanger the baby, Grace. Your safety; that of you, James, and the baby, is of the utmost importance to His Grace and myself.” At the mention of the baby, Grace and James exchanged glances and nodded to each other in agreement. Grace took the cool cloth from the duchess and went to administer to her husband herself, just as Chrissy walked into the room.

“Nic?! James?! Grace?!” she looked at Waverly and curtseyed, but stammering continued, “Your Grace? What… what happened? Is everyone all right?” Nicole looked at her wife, who stood up and walked over to Chrissy and took her hands in her own.

“Chrissy, you must, at all costs, avoid Sir James Hardy. He has it in for His Grace, the Duke, and is targeting his female servants.” Understanding flashed across Chrissy’s face and then concern as her azure eyes flashed to Grace.

Nicole stepped up and said, “Chrissy, Grace is fine. We got here in time, and James valiantly tried to protect her honor. But Waverly is correct, you must be careful. Avoid him at all costs. We are sending James and Grace back to the manor for the baby’s safety.” Chrissy nodded her understanding.

The duke and duchess had them packed up in a carriage and heading off to the manor before supper, James and Grace inside clutching tightly to each other seeking comfort and reassurance.

The duke and duchess attended supper and took their usual places per Her Majesty’s request. Hardy was sitting a few seats down from them, his eye now spectacularly purple and swollen shut, at which the redhead felt a tiny bit of pride, even Waverly seemed proud of her wife, judging by the wink and smile that she gave Nicole and pointed nod towards Hardy. He sulked throughout the feast, but as he drank more, he apparently grew more brazen. He had a malicious smile on his face, and as Chrissy was walking behind him carrying the wine refill that Waverly had requested, he turned and gripped her fiercely by the arm. She tugged and Nicole could hear the blonde asking him to let go, but he didn’t. She glanced at Waverly who nodded, and the redhead stood up, which only called even more attention to the situation than it had already garnered. But apparently the duke wasn’t fast enough. The young man from earlier who had already come to Chrissy’s rescue once before, was already at Hardy’s side demanding that he unhand her. Hardy’s face and fingers went slack with shock and Chrissy pulled herself free, but sedately continued her way towards the duke and duchess, head held high, eyes straight ahead, and poured Waverly’s wine for her. A glance towards Hardy showed him purpling in anger, staring daggers at the young lord who had so openly defied and humiliated him.

“Chrissy, go pour him a measure of wine and express to him our thanks from the Duchess Waverly and myself.” She nodded and dutifully did so. He glanced at the couple, and Nicole raised her cup and nodded at him, then turned towards Waverly. “Darling, did you find out who he is?”

She nodded, swallowing the mouthful of wine she had. “In fact, I did. I had Grace and James ask around while we were meeting with Her Majesty.” The redhead glanced at the Queen who was turned away from them, speaking to the Scottish ambassador on her other side. “He is apparently the youngest son of a minor lord, knighted and presented with land for his valor in the border skirmishes with Scotland.”

“So he is from a respected and courageous family. He has shown multiple times that he has honor and kindness aplenty. He is a younger son, still noble, but without the highest of prospects. Where is his father’s land?” Nicole mused aloud.

“A day’s ride southeast of London.”

“So close enough that she could still visit her father.” Nicole nodded emphatically, liking the young man’s prospects even more. Waverly met Nicole’s brown eyes and nodded her agreement. “We are of an accord then. I will speak to him tomorrow.” The duke looked back at the young man in question who was chatting amiably with Chrissy.

That night, Waverly and Nicole once again explored each other’s bodies fully, learning the other’s different erotic spots and techniques until late in the night when they collapsed in exhaustion.

The next morning, the duke woke early and dressed in a dark blue doublet with gold stitching and slashed sleeves, and set off to find the young man from last night.

Nicole had had a small cask of the finest ale in London purchased and brought to her by a young page with some coins for his trouble. She brought it with her as she received directions from servants to where he was staying. Finally the redhead arrived at his door and upon knocking, was granted entrance by the young man himself.

“Your Grace! You honor me with your presence! What can I do for you?” He bowed as he gestured Nicole in and towards what was obviously the most comfortable armchair. The duke sat, balancing the cask on her knee. His eyes darted towards it, but dutifully back up to Nicole’s face as he took a seat across from her.

“Well, my young friend… I apologize, but I realize that I never got your name.”

“Sir Perry Crofte, Your Grace.” He bowed his head again.

“Sir Perry.” Nicole smiled at him. “I wished to thank you for saving my servant, Chrissy, last night. Hardy can be such a brute, and I know how much she appreciated you intervening on her behalf.”

He blushed in response, ducking his head. “It was my pleasure, Your Grace.”

“So, I have brought you a cask of what I have been assured is the finest ale in London along with my thanks.” The duke proffered it to him, and he took it with a smile.

“My thanks, Your Grace. Please, you must try some with me,” he asserted.

“Well if you insist.” Nicole chuckled. He grabbed two cups, and together they partook of what was indeed a _very_ fine ale. The morning passed slowly as they talked amicably of many things, but the redhead noticed Chrissy’s name came up often enough that she turned the talk to her fully.

“Well, when I landed on these shores, I did not have much. Everything having gone down with the ship, you see.” The redhead paused to take a long draught of the ale. “Chrissy’s father owns the cleanest inn in London, the White Dragon, and he gave me lodgings. Chrissy was very kind to me in those early days, so when the Duchess of York and I were married, I brought Chrissy to be her lady’s maid. I hoped that she would find a nice young man to whom she would be a good match. I have promised a thousand crowns as her dowry when the time comes.” Nicole chose the perfect moment to pause and pour herself another cup of ale, watching Perry’s face as he realized that Chrissy was available, and came with a generous dowry. Taking a swig, she continued, “It is my hope that such a sweet girl as her will meet someone soon who would be willing to take her as his wife.” There. She had planted the seed and there was nothing else she could do; it was on him to decide to approach Nicole for permission, and then Chrissy for her agreement.

Shortly after, Nicole said her goodbyes and headed back to her suite where she found Waverly waiting for details of how it went.

“I told him of her background and my wish to see her married to a good man.” She chuckled and continued, “His eyes lit up at the mention of her one thousand crown dowry.”

“Such a generous amount, my husband.” Waverly mock exclaimed, sitting on the arm of Nicole’s chair.

“Oh? And what did you bring to our marriage, my wife?” The redhead pulled the brunette into her lap and Waverly giggled.

“Only lands… a title…” She sobered up as she considered Perry. “He is a fourth son, so he does not stand to inherit, and of a minor lord at that. His prospects are not the strongest, yet he would be able to set himself up with a decent house and lands with some serfs with a dowry that size. He would be a fool to not be considering it strongly.”

The duke held her and watched her think, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration. Nicole blurted out something that she had only considered for a moment or two in passing, “Waves, we need to think about an heir. People will talk if we do not become with child soon.”

The brunette looked at her spouse in astonishment. It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her once she found out the truth about Nicole. “A child? Nic, unless your tool can do more than I think it can, it is not possible.” Her features hardened in resolve. “And I will not lay with anyone but you.”

Nicole blanched at the thought of anyone else sleeping with her wife, hands clenching possessively around Waverly’s hips. Now that she had opened her big mouth, Nicole had to keep explaining, but she treaded carefully. “Well, dear, no one knows Grace is pregnant and she will be kept away from court for the entirety of her pregnancy….” The duke trailed off trying to let what she was getting at occur to the duchess.

“So… if I start rumors of my own pregnancy, then retire to the manor in a couple months or so when I should begin showing, we can claim James and Grace’s child as our own and therefore our heir… But, Nic, we would have to see if Grace and James would be okay with that. I also do not think I would be okay with separating a mother from her child…”

The redhead nuzzled her nose into the brunette’s temple, breathing deeply of her scent, and with a kiss said, “They would not be separated, Waves. James and Grace will be with the child all day, every day. And it would stand to inherit more lands and fortune than they could ever hope to provide it with. I cannot imagine they would say no, but I will go ask them if you and I decide this would be something we would be willing to do.”

Waverly thought about it for the next two days, but assented as long as they agreed. By the third day, Nicole was riding off to the manor on Shadow to ask James and Grace what they thought of it. She explained everything; how it would work, what the baby would stand to inherit, that they would need never be away from their child, etc. Eyes shining with tears of happiness, they both agreed. Before leaving, the duke charged James with ensuring that a nursery was outfitted and that they move into the room adjacent to the new nursery.

When she got back to court, the redhead raced straight to Waverly to tell her the good news. The couple spent the next few days starting the rumor of Waverly’s pregnancy. It was the little things at first, such as Waverly spending more time with her hand on her stomach, the calling of midwifes and soothsayers to their rooms to “tell the baby’s sex” and check on the status of her “pregnancy,” etc. Then Chrissy and Waverly were conveniently overheard talking about the “baby” by a notorious court gossip and soon it had spread like wildfire. Random nobles in the corridors routinely stopped Nicole to shake her hand in congratulations; Waverly said it was the same for her. They were called before the Queen who congratulated them and presented them with a beautiful, dark wood cradle. She also suggested that she would be pleased to be named godmother of the child, not that they had asked, but they were left little choice at that point. Waverly thanked her profusely and mentioned that if it was a boy they wished to name him Edward after Nicole’s father, and after Her Majesty’s own great-grandfather, Edward IV, to which Her Majesty gave her blessing.

After their meeting with the Queen, they arrived back at their rooms to find Perry waiting for them. Waverly smiled in understanding and with a little kiss goodbye, went on into the room to work on a blanket she was embroidering for the baby.

Perry bowed deeply. “Your Grace, first off I would like to congratulate you on the news of your unborn child.” He accepted the cup of wine the redhead poured for him with a gracious nod, but downed it in a matter of moments to steady his nerves, so with raised eyebrows, she poured him another. “However, I have come to speak to you about the matter of Chrissy. I hope you will forgive me, I have done this somewhat backwards,” he muttered the last bit to himself, but continued, “I wished to make sure she shared my feelings before coming before you… What I mean to say is…” blushing fiercely, he paused to down his second cup of wine, but it seemed to do the trick. He sat up straighter and looked Nicole in the eyes as he continued. “Your Grace, I would like to ask for Chrissy’s hand in marriage. I promise I would take the very best care of her and treat her well.”

The duke took a sip of wine, staring him dead in the eyes, blinking pensively as though she had to mull it over, smirking to herself as he gulped nervously. “I promised her father that she would always be close enough to visit him whenever she wished. You would need to take on the burden of that promise.”

He visibly relaxed, taking it for the assent that it was. “Yes, Your Grace. My father’s lands are a day’s ride outside of London. She would be able to visit whenever she wished, and even bring him for visits if she so chose.”

Nicole nodded in agreement. “Then, provided Chrissy is of an accord, you have my permission.”

He beamed at her, bobbing his jet-black hair as he shook Nicole’s hand with gusto. “Yes, Your Grace. Of course, Your Grace. Thank you!” And with that, he bolted from the room. The redhead leaned back in her chair smiling at her successful machinations. “If anyone comes for Mary or Kitty, send them in. I’m quite at my leisure.” She said to the empty room, which was just as well because she surely botched the quote from _Pride and Prejudice_ , not that she cared in the least. She was still chuckling at her wit when Waverly came back into the antechamber, taking a seat in Nicole’s lap, and took the wine cup from the redhead’s hand to sip it.

“I take it Chrissy is to be married to Perry?”

“Aye.” Nicole nodded and the brunette beamed in answer, snuggling into Nicole’s chest and they read contentedly in that position until supper time.

After supper that night, as Waverly was lagging behind speaking to some friends, Nicole was approached by the Scottish ambassador. He pulled the redhead aside and shook her hand offering his congratulations on what was sure to be a son, as he said. She laughed, shaking his hand back and they spoke of trivial things for a few minutes before he was called away by someone else. The duke watched him go, and caught Hardy eyeing them suspiciously, but her attention was captured by Waverly, who took Nicole’s hand and whispered in her ear that it couldn’t hurt to continue attempting to make a baby. Needless to say, she hightailed it back to their bedroom. And they tried... And tried… And tried again.

The next day Nicole was summoned to an audience with the Queen that she arrived a few minutes early for. Early enough to see Hardy come storming out of the Queen’s privy chamber. He glared daggers at the tall redhead, angrily shoving past her to the door. Her brown eyes were still on the door he had left through, when the Queen came up behind her. Lost in thought, the Queen was twirling her diamond and ruby ring, a gift from Lord Robert Dudley, and flipping open and closed its small enameled portraits of her mother, Anne Boleyn, and father, Henry VIII.

“He wished us to know that you, Lord Davis, were seen speaking at length to the Scottish ambassador. It was his very dear wish that we investigate the ‘very real threat’ that you are a spy.”

She paused to gain Nicole’s reaction, which was a very pronounced look of utter shock.

“S-spy?! Your Majesty, I assure you, I am not a spy!” She waved off Nicole’s spluttered denials.

“We know you are not a spy, Davis. However, we have to admit that we are surprised at how low Hardy would stoop. It would seem he has a very deep hatred of you. It has been an idea of ours to send a delegation to your land to commence with the trade agreements. Perhaps we shall charge Hardy with the charter and remove him from court for a time.”

The teen blinked, trying to give herself an extra second to think as her mind raced; it would be many months before such a delegation could be gathered and launched, plus many more months before they reached the shores of New England and established their colony, and even more before arriving back in England to report to Her Majesty on the progress of the colony. What she was proposing would take at least a year, maybe more, before her lie was uncovered.

“I think that is a wonderful idea, Your Majesty.” Nicole bowed as she replied.

With an imperious nod, she waved the duke out the door, ready to move onto the next appointment.

Finding herself with the rest of the day free, Nicole hurried back to the suite of rooms where she found Waverly sitting in her favorite armchair working on the baby blanket. Grinning, the redhead leant over and placed a line of kisses up the brunette’s neck, enjoying the hum of contentment Waverly gave as she progressed along her jaw before the duchess finally dropped her embroidery and turned her head to capture Nicole’s wandering lips, holding the redhead’s face steady as their lips moved lazily against each other.

“Mmm” she sighed in contentment as she broke the kiss and grinned up at Nicole. “What brought this on, husband?”

Taking a seat in another armchair, Nicole beamed back at the brunette. “Do I need a reason to kiss my devastatingly beautiful wife?” The brunette snorted and rolled her eyes at the obvious flirt, but was betrayed by the slight flush of pink that rose in her cheeks at the redhead’s compliment. The redhead winked at the duchess, but her face sobered as she continued on, “I just left the Queen’s presence and she informed me that Sir Hardy noticed me speaking with the Scottish ambassador last night as he congratulated me on our child, and tried to convince Her Majesty that I am a spy for Mary, Queen of Scots.”

Waverly’s brow furrowed in anger as fury swirled through her eyes. “That despicable man will stop at nothing! Ugh!” Nicole chuckled at how adorable her wife is when angry with someone other than her. 

“Her Majesty has a plan to remove him from court, but I figured it might be nice to get out of the palace for the day and spend the day in the city?”

Waverly eyed the redhead with some trepidation as she considered the suggestion. “I’ve never just explored the city. Isn’t it dirty and dangerous?”

Nicole chuckled as she reached to stroke her thumb soothingly along the brunette’s knuckles. “Yes and yes. But we can dress down and you’ll be with me so we should be relatively safe. There’s so much to see and experience in the city! I think you will have a wonderful time!” Her brown eyes whirled with excitement at the prospect of showing her wife what she had learned and experienced in her first weeks in the city.

Grinning at her spouse’s infectious eagerness, Waverly nodded her assent, and together they changed into plainer clothes, not wanting to attract too much attention on the mean streets of London. Chrissy was a great help in clothing Waverly, even lending her a plain dress of hers that needed a little hemming as Chrissy was several inches taller than the duchess. Soon enough, they were dressed and heading down to the stables where they mounted Shadow together and rode through the gates of Whitehall Palace into London.

From the moment they were through the gates, Waverly’s head was on a swivel, her mouth gaping in astonishment as she struggled to see everything. The redhead saw the sights anew through her wife’s virgin eyes, fondly remembering her own excitement to see and hear and taste everything. There were people walking sedately through the streets, and others running through the tide of people as they dodged the rocks in the current that were people stopped in front of a vendor, listening to a salespitch or just catching up with one another. The buildings rose high above, sometimes four stories high as they progressed deeper into the city proper. Nicole led Shadow down the streets that would lead past the White Dragon, pointing it out to Waverly as they passed. Snuggling back into Nicole’s chest, the brunette tilted her head up to kiss the underside of the redhead’s jaw, happy that Nicole had people and a place to call home when she first arrived in town with nothing to her name. Even if Chrissy had been a large part of that.

The couple neared London Bridge, and stabled Shadow at an inn just before the bridge, paying for a day’s stabling. Nicole helped Waverly dismount, taking a moment to enjoy the press of her wife’s body against hers and breathing deeply of the lavender of her hair. The brunette smiled, recognizing what the redhead was doing and gave a teasing press of her bottom flush into her spouse’s front, smirking at the hitch in Nicole’s breath at the move. Hand in hand, they passed into the cool shadows of London Bridge, Waverly’s neck craning to see above the four to six stories high buildings that lined London Bridge connecting every so often via archways as support beams to prevent the tall buildings toppling into the Thames. It was a small city unto its own, right in the heart of London. They perused through narrow, winding streets amongst a press of people all going about their day. Waverly insisted on stopping at every stall to purvey the trinkets being sold by various merchants, purchasing several bolts of cloth for new dresses for herself, Grace, Mary, and even Chrissy, as well as some linen to make Nicole some new shirts. She also insisted on trying the various food on offer at stalls along the way, from slices of questionable meat roasting over spits to fishmongers with fish freshly caught from the bridge that day, fried up in a pan with thinly sliced potatoes and onions cooked up right in front of them. Nicole grimaced at the thought of eating fish living in the Thames, which was a dumping ground for blood, meat, feces, urine, anything and everything garbage related was tossed in the Thames at that time, all of which would’ve collected at the bridge where the water slowed upriver as it met the obstacles that were the massive stone and wood foundations that supported the weight of the bridge, the tenements, and the crush of people on it. Downriver, through the archways formed by the bridge supports, there was a dangerous current where the water rushed through the gaps between the foundation stones, many a person had drowned and many a ship had been battered to pieces trying to pass through the rapids. Despite these worries, Nicole figured it was safe enough as everyone else at the time was eating the fish, too, and further hoped that cooking the fish well would make it safe enough. The butter, salt, and rosemary it was all cooked with made it smell delectable and the redhead’s mouth was watering, and the flavor did not disappoint as Nicole sucked in air trying to cool her mouth off from too hasty a bite from the steaming fish, glancing at her wife and smiling at the adorable nibbles the brunette was giving to the fish and potatoes.

After several hours, they were barely at the midway point of the bridge that had previously been Drawbridge Gate, but only a few years before had been replaced by Nonsuch House. Waverly gazed in awe as the buildings stopped for several feet leading up to the impressive four-storied building with onion domes on each of its four columns, casement windows thrown wide to encourage a breeze. People and carriages passed through the tunnel underneath the house created by the imposing building arching over the length of the entire bridge. Several moments of gawking later, the couple with full bellies and Nicole’s arms straining from the brunette’s purchases, turned into a pub that was self-explanatorily named The Brydge. Nicole sighed in relief at stepping into the cool, dark shadows inside the building and they made their way to a table where the redhead dropped the purchases into a heap, ignoring Waverly’s affronted huff at the idea of scuffing her new fabrics. An adolescent young girl immediately stepped up to take their order.

“I’ll take an ale, please.” Nicole answered, and looked at Waverly who asked what refreshments were available.

“We ‘ave ale, wine, mead, cider, perry, water, milk, an’ if yer ‘ungry we ‘ave some fresh fried pork an’ fish skins for snackin’ on.” The young girl answered, glancing at Nicole and missing Waverly’s grimace at the mention of fried skins.

The brunette glanced at her spouse looking for a recommendation of what to order, so the redhead responded, “If you haven’t tried it before, I’d recommend trying the ale, dear. Today is about experiencing new things.”

The brunette nodded her agreement and ordered the ale. “Thank you for today, Nic. This has been such an experience to see what life is like outside the palace walls. Is it always so busy?” Waverly lowered her voice as she leaned forward to mutter, “And always so smelly and loud?”

As Nicole chuckled, and nodded to the brunette, the young serving girl dropped off their tankards of ale. Nicole immediately took a swig, smacking her lips in lips in pleasure at the drink on her dry dusty throat. _This is almost as good as at the White Dragon, but then again I might be biased_ , Nicole thought to herself as she glanced over the rim of her mug at her wife. She snorted her laugh into the ale as Waverly took too large a gulp of the unfamiliar liquid and coughed at the strong flavors of heather and yarrow that had been added to the ale. The redhead cleared her throat and looked away in fear at the offended look her wife was giving her.

“Sorry, my love. I should’ve warned you about the taste. Try a smaller sip, it’s really very good.” Nicole raised her tankard in a salute to Waverly and smiled as the brunette took a smaller sip and ran her pink tongue over her lips to catch any drips of ale.

“Hmm. It is not too bad, but I think I do prefer my wine at court. Would you like to finish mine and I can order a perry?” The brunette slid her ale across the table towards the redhead, and flagged down the serving girl to order her pear-cider. Waverly much preferred her perry and the couple passed a nice hour relaxing in the cool building and speaking of what they most enjoyed about the day.

The serving girl approached their table with a goblet of cider in hand, nervously glancing between the redhead and brunette, before glancing over her shoulder. “Um-,” her voice warbled a little in her nervousness, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “The man over a’ tha’ table sends this cider over to ‘the pretties’ lady ‘e’s ever seen’ with ‘is regards.” And proceeded to set the cider in front of Waverly who looked astonished and watched Nicole with wide hazel eyes. Nicole and Waverly glanced towards the man the serving girl had motioned towards, noting a stocky man with a thick brown beard drinking with a friend who tipped his own tankard in the brunette’s direction with a lecherous waggle of his thick eyebrows. Waverly turned pale and glanced back at her spouse, placing her hand over the redhead’s in warning not to take too much of an affront. 

Nicole smiled lovingly at her worried wife, and turning to the serving girl, said, “Please thank him for the gesture, but she cannot accept it. Please send him an ale from her husband with my compliments for ‘the prettiest man I’ve ever seen’.” The serving girl turned red at the obvious insult and inevitable fight, but with a squeak scurried away to do as she was bid. “See how he likes it.” The redhead muttered darkly.

“Darling, you know this won’t end well.” Waverly cautioned her spouse, stroking her fingers along the redhead’s soon-to-be-bruised knuckles. Smiling, Nicole lifted the brunette’s hand and dusted kisses along each finger.

“Waverly, it’d be one thing if you were seated alone or with a female companion, but with another man who has been touching you this whole time, it is an obvious slight to me. Now if he takes umbrage, even at ‘husband’ then that’s on him. The gauntlet was thrown by him first and I will not back down.”

Their attention was captured by another squeak out of the serving girl as she jumped back at the hand the burly man smacked down with a snarl. His chair made a loud scraping noise along the floor as he stood up and pointed his finger menacingly in their direction. “’Usband?! ‘Ave ‘is balls even dropped yet? ‘E ‘asn’ even got a beard! Pretty thin’ like ye needs a _real_ man!” He stroked his gnarled brown beard as he said it, waggling the caterpillars above his eyes as he continued, “I ‘ave a room upstairs, come wi’ me an’ see wha’ a real man can do.” 

Waverly turned pink high in her cheeks, and fury swirled in her green-flecked eyes as Nicole gleefully clapped internally at the verbal asswhooping her wife was going to give him on her behalf. The brunette cleared her throat and spoke clearly as she responded, “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m confused. Are you offering your room in these lodgings for my husband to hump me in? Because my _husband_ is the most real _man_ ” the brunette snuck a sly wink at the redhead as she said the last word. “I have ever known and takes _very_ good care of me _every_ night, often several times a night. And while I appreciate the offer, I’m sure we will need to be on our way after my husband wipes the floor with you.”

The stocky man glanced down at the guffaw his friend gave, face reddening in humiliation as he stormed around the table towards the couple. “Ge’ up and figh’ me, if yer such a real man!”

The duchess glanced at Nicole and calmly said, “Please don’t take too long, dear. It’s getting late and I’d like to get back home before it gets dark.” Smirking at the redhead, she winked, mischief dancing in her eyes as she took a sip of her perry.

“Of course, love. This shouldn’t take long at all. Two seconds.” The tall redhead grinned broadly, before unfolding out of the chair and towering over the shorter man, whose eyes just got bigger as the 5’9” redhead stepped into his space and leaned over to breathe into his face. “So, do you want to do this in here or out there?”

Clearing his throat the bearded man responded, “’Ere!” And he threw a haymaker at the redhead’s temple.

Nicole had known the shorter man would try something underhanded, so she was expecting the hit and ducked below it, delivering a solid punch to his solar plexus. As he bent over wheezing, she gave him a hard shove to the ground where he fell on his ass curled protectively around his spasming diaphragm. “One,” the redhead said as she glanced at her wife, before chugging the last of her ale and turning with the tankard in hand. “Two!” She winked at the hazel-eyed beauty before she slammed the empty clay tankard into his temple as he struggled up from the floor. His eyes rolled back as he fell back onto the floor out cold amongst the clay tankard shards and dribbles of ale. “Huh, so that really happens? I figured it was only for TV comedy.” The redhead muttered. Planting her foot in his ample side, she pushed him along the floor a ways, mopping up the spilled ale with him as she glanced at the serving girl and said, “Sorry about the mess.”

Grabbing up their purchases, Nicole gave her wife a steadying hand as she stepped over the man on the floor, before she headed over to the gobsmacked serving girl and pressed a gold coin into her hand. “This is for the drinks, the broken tankard, and that man’s drink,” she pointed at the knocked out man’s friend who stared with his mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “For laughing at his friend.” Waverly giggled at her ridiculous spouse, but cuddled into the victorious redhead’s side, smiling as said redhead pressed a firm kiss into her temple for defending her masculinity and dressing down that lout.

The couple stepped out into the noisy street, their eardrums assailed anew by the cacophony of rushing water, shouting people, and rattling carriages, as they turned to begin their way back towards Shadow and Whitehall Palace. Shortly before they reached the end of the bridge, the curious brunette darted down an alley she saw, leaning out over the river to see the bridge from a different angle. Nicole grabbed her by the back of the dress, pulling back as the brunette almost lost her balance as she extended far over the railing to look down. “Whoa, Waves! It’s low tide and the locks,” the redhead pointed at the archways below them, through which spilled a waterfall of gushing water spewing through. “Are especially dangerous right now. I’d be surprised if any boats try to shoot the bridge until the tide rises again.” At the brunette’s confused look, Nicole elaborated, “Shooting the bridge is attempting to sail through while the water is rushing through at such strength and speed. It’s very dangerous and many a person has drowned from it.” Backing nervously away from the railing, the brunette clutched at Nicole’s arm and hurried back towards the end of the bridge and the inn where they had stabled Shadow for the day.

The duke tipped the innkeeper in thanks for a job well done, upon finding Shadow fed, watered, and brushed down. Loading up Waverly’s purchases, and then the woman herself, the redhead wheeled Shadow around before climbing up behind her wife and wrapping her arms securely around the petite brunette who slumped against her amused spouse in exhaustion from her full day as they headed back to Whitehall Palace.

At supper, the Queen announced that the court would be taking a minor summer progress starting next week. “It is our intention to visit several of our nobles as we journey through our lands these coming months.” A flurry of whispers greeted her announcement, some excited, most nervous. Housing the Queen and court was an enormous honor, a chance to wow the Queen and gain political favor, but was also _very_ expensive and taxing on a region’s finances and supplies as 300 courtiers and servants needed housing and feeding for several days or even weeks.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're in the right order.

The next week was spent packing essentials for the summer progress as servants rushed to shut up Whitehall Palace for several weeks to a couple months, depending on how long the Queen felt like being away. The first stop would be one of Her Majesty’s chief councilors, Lord Burghley’s, nearly completed estate, Theobalds House, just outside London. The estate was expressly designed to encourage Her Majesty’s visits on summer progress, having been under construction for several years. While she and the maids were folding dresses into trunks and strewing lavender between layers to prevent mildew smells, Waverly mentioned that even though it wasn’t finished, Her Majesty had still visited several times, delighted with all the efforts at catering to her every need and desire William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley, had woven into the designs. The gardens had been designed with heavy influence from great French gardens, particularly the Chateau Fontainebleau. The days passed in a blur and suddenly they were hopping into a line of carriages and horses and beginning the long trek to their first stop on the summer progress. Waverly and Nicole were on one side of the carriage, while Mary and Chrissy were facing them on the other bench, a few hours into the stifling heat and swaying of the carriage, the two maids were dosing on each others’ shoulders, having been up before dawn to ensure the packing of their household into the carriage and a wagon behind. Grinning and feeling mischievous, the duchess leaned her head up and nosed at the shell of Nicole’s ear before biting it softly and murmuring seductively, “Maybe we should see if we can arrange to have the carriage to ourselves for the next leg of the journey?” The redhead shivered in delight and anticipation, humming her agreement.

Waverly stamped a searing kiss on the duke’s pulse point, causing the redhead to moan softly before squeezing her hand firmly in warning high on the brunette’s thigh. Waverly bucked her hips towards the fingers, trying to get them to where she needed them most, stroking her to greater and greater heights before she exploded into formless particles of pleasure floating in the wind. She bucked her hips again and bit the duke hard, sucking on that most erogenous zone for the redhead, who hissed and squeezed harder, almost to the point of pain, before she whispered into sandy-brown locks, “Behave yourself, naughty woman. We’re not alone.” The duchess pouted, knowing it was usually the death blow to the duke’s self restraint, purring, “But, Your Grace, I’m pregnant and have this insatiable hunger for you. How am I supposed to manage these urges?” The brunette reveled in the shiver it elicited in Nicole.

“Love, I promise as soon as we get settled in our rooms at Theobalds House, I will make you scream my name so much you will lose your voice.” Nicole murmured against the shell of Waverly’s ear.

This time it was Waverly’s turn to shiver in anticipation as she fidgeted, trying to dampen the pulsing ache she felt between her legs and feeling a fresh wave of wetness soak her undergarments at her spouse’s delicious threat.

Thirty minutes of fidgeting later, the maids awoke from their doze as the carriage clattered up the tree-lined laneway towards an impressive redbrick wall leading to the gatehouse into Theobalds House. Mary looked in concern at the duchess’ squirming, and asked, “My lady, are you unwell?” The brunette and redhead blushed as Waverly stammered out she was fine, Chrissy smirking in response as she noticed the couple’s embarrassment and guessed the reason.

Passing through the gates, they led into a wide courtyard with manicured lawns stretching out, and an imposing, larger building ahead. Chrissy and Nicole shifted to get ready to step out of the carriage, surprised when it didn’t slow down. Glancing at Waverly and Mary, who were attempting to cover their smirks with their hands, the duchess explained that Theobalds House was actually a triple courtyard house, rather than the smaller single courtyard style like their manor. The blonde and the redhead settled back and enjoyed the view as their carriage rattled through another gateway into a larger courtyard with turreted buildings ringing the courtyard. Peeking through the window, Nicole noticed several of the other carriages were peeling off to unload in this courtyard, but Waverly answered the redhead’s unasked question, stating, “These are the buildings the minor nobles and staff will stay in, but due to our rank we will be sequestered closer to Her Majesty in the final courtyard.”

The redhead’s eyebrows in awe rose as their carriage did indeed pass through into the third courtyard, and with a clatter over the stones, circled around a massive black and white marble fountain in the center before stopping with a slight lurch before the impressive carved wooden doors recessed under a stone loggia ringing this innermost courtyard. Disembarking first, Nicole turned to lend a hand to first the duchess, and then Mary and Chrissy who immediately set to work ordering the tidal wave of servants who flooded into the courtyard to unpack the carriage and wagon. The Duchess of York slipped her hand into the duke’s arm, and guided her away from the flurry of activity and barked orders and into the cool shadows of the colonnade and deep into the house. Almost skipping in her excitement, the brunette dragged her spouse along the corridors deeper into the building, running up a staircase into a room on the floor above, and throwing wide the diamond-paned windows to lean out and look at the extensive gardens, painstakingly modeled after Chateau Fontainebleau in France. Stepping behind the brunette, and wrapping her long arms around her slender waist, Nicole looked out over the gardens currently making her wife’s hazel eyes swirl in appreciation as she vowed to herself to hire a gardener and design a garden at the manor that would make her wife as happy at their home as she was here gazing out over Theobalds’ gardens.

The gardens were arranged in several mirror images of each other, hedged squares with a central water feature, and dotted with bulbed and conical bushes. The symmetry and care that went into the planning, execution, and even daily care of these gardens was astonishing. Farther out past the hedge squares was a large trench encasing the gardens, and filled with water with the occasional boat bobbing in the water, waiting for courtiers to hop in and float around as they laughed and flirted and enjoyed a day in the gardens. Arching over the moat were intricate stone bridges so people could perambulate around and view those passing their day enjoying the gardens. It was easy to see how Lord Cecil had certainly spared no expense to have this built as the preeminent stop along the summer progress, specifically for Her Majesty and her accompanying court’s pleasure. In the redhead’s arms, the brunette sighed and snuggled deeper into her chest, enjoying the moment of peace they stole before the gardens inevitably filled with chattering nobles.

Mary found the couple several minutes later, informing them that as Lord Dudley was away preparing his own estate for a visit from the Queen and court later on the progress, his usual suite of rooms was being allocated to the Duke and Duchess of York. She led them up to a set of rooms, Waverly mentioning quietly to Nicole that there was a gallery that directly connected their new rooms to Her Majesty’s. The redhead waggled her eyebrows lasciviously at her wife who giggled before smacking the tall duke’s shoulder in mock outrage, stating, “Stop! Her Majesty and Lord Dudley are merely very good friends. However,” she bit her lip and looked coyly up through her lashes into Nicole’s lust-darkening brown eyes. “I believe someone claimed they would have me screaming their name until I lost my voice?” The brunette danced away into their inner bedchamber, batting her green eyes temptingly over her shoulder as she led the redhead to follow through on her threat. Nicole ducked her head out into the outer room, catching Mary’s eye as she informed her to ensure they were not disturbed, before firmly shutting and locking the bedroom door. 

Turning to face her wife, she found the alluring brunette reclining on the bed as she slowly licked her tongue along her lower lip before biting it in excitement, her eyes dancing in anticipation of being ravaged by the tall redhead. Her heavy-lidded hazel eyes widened as she leaned forward in curiosity as Nicole pulled out her cell phone. “Are you going to take a picture of me?” She asked excited at the prospect of seeing the incredible machine at work again.

“I plan on taking many pictures of you, my love. But right now, I want to play some music to help set the mood.” Nicole winked at her wife as she pulled up Joji’s “Slow Dancing in the Dark” and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. She chuckled at Waverly’s gasp of excitement as she scrambled across the bed towards the phone, picking it up and holding it in awe at the music coming from the device. The brunette looked up at her wife, eyes shining at the technological marvel, and Nicole shook her head before pulling the headphones out of her backpack and plugging them into the phone. Immediately the music cut off, and Waverly gave a small mewl of discontent, pouting at her wife, who only grinned in response and plugged the headphones into Waverly’s ears. 

The medieval woman jerked in surprise, and beamed up at her wife, shouting, “Davis really is a land of impossible marvels and magic! England will benefit greatly from our lands’ friendship and trade.” Nicole winced at the volume, before chuckling again and giving her wife a kiss as she removed the headphones from her ears. Yanking the headphone cord out, Joji’s plaintive croons filled the room anew, and Nicole crawled onto the bed, predatorily stalking the sultrily grinning brunette who scooted back in faux fear. The brunette leaned upon the pillows, her body softly undulating to the beat of the song, as Nicole covered her body with hers, trapping her prey and claiming her prize in the form of a heated kiss. Their lips glided together, the kiss growing scorching as Waverly sighed into her mouth, winding her fingers into soft copper locks, and with a tug, she swallowed Nicole’s resultant moan. The redhead nipped the brunette’s bottom lip, soothing the wound with a brush of her tongue. She ran her hand up her wife’s leg, raising the skirts of her dress and bending her knee before lifting and wrapping the leg around her hip.

Waverly breathed heavily through kiss swollen lips, parted in arousal before they pouted in a gasp as Nicole rolled her hips down into the brunette’s center. Grinning puckishly, the redhead lightly dragged her blunt nails down the duchess’ thigh before rolling her hips again, eyelids fluttering at the sinful sounds of her wife whimpering beneath her. Nicole reached underneath the brunette, unlacing the rear laces of Waverly’s dress, stamping kisses along her flesh as each inch was slowly freed from the velvet confines. She bit and sucked a dark bloom into the swell of the brunette’s breast as Waverly moaned and fisted handfuls of red hair, tugging in her pleasure. As Nicole was licking a stripe up the brunette’s neck to nibble on her earlobe, the song changed over to Vera Blue’s “Hold.” The duchess halted her unconscious undulations to the beat and Nicole licked and sucked on her pulse point to bring her wife’s attention back to the matter at hand. The first line of the song caught Waverly’s attention: “I love the way you tie me down” and she gasped into Nicole’s ear as the redhead rolled her hips hard into her. “Your land has some strange ways. Is it common to love being tied down?”

Nicole chuckled between kisses as she pulled the neckline of the brunette’s dress lower, finally exposing her breast. She blew lightly over the tightening bud, and loving the way her wife squirmed under her. “Some people enjoy a number of things during sex. One of them is being restrained or tied up, one is… choking. One is biting…” She licked a broad stripe with her flattened tongue across the brunette’s nipple before enclosing it with her lips as she sucked. Glancing up, she saw those expressive green eyes closed and her wife’s rosebud mouth pouted in pleasure as she reveled in the redhead’s attentions. Her brow furrowed as she hissed when Nicole bit her nipple, rolling it between her teeth before pulling and letting it go with a pop and then soothing it with her tongue.

“Mmm,” the brunette hummed as green eyes locked gazes with brown. “I guess biting can be nice, but choking? That sounds painful; I’m not sure about that.” Brown eyes shined with mischief as she rocked her hips into the brunette’s center. Green eyes darkened even further with arousal, as blunt nails traced across her thigh, and up towards her most sensitive area. Nicole hummed as her fingers brushed across Waverly’s clit, loving how her breath hitched and her hips canted up, chasing more friction. She brushed her fingers over the length of the duchess’ pussy, collecting some juices on her fingertips, before bringing those fingertips to her mouth to lick her tongue along them, tasting Waverly’s hours of hunger. The brunette squirmed and breathed harder, sucking air in as she tried to be patient just a little longer. 

Deciding to have mercy on her well-behaved wife, the redhead ran her fingers through the brunette’s wetness, delighting in the soft moans as the duchess trembled. She paused, wanting Waverly’s eyes on her, and hazel eyes opened in confusion, locking with brown as the redhead thrust two fingers deep into her pussy, curling them up before dragging them out. The brunette’s eyes rolled back in her head as she squealed her pleasure, panting as the redhead thrust them in and dragged them out in long slow, strokes. She felt the bed bounce as the redhead shifted her weight onto her knees and leaned over her prone form, but she couldn’t open her eyes, fixated on the tantalizing pleasure being worked between her legs. Nicole’s fingers tweaked her other nipple, earning a gasp followed by a moan as the duke followed it up with another long stroke over her spongy front wall. The phone ticked over again, changing this time to Portishead’s “Glory Box,” Waverly’s body rocking into Nicole’s hand to the new beat, moaning louder as Nicole’s thrusts grew harder and quicker. The knot of tension and pleasure within her stomach was coiling tighter and tighter. Green eyes flew open as the redhead’s hand settled on her throat with a light pressure. Startled she looked into Nicole’s eyes, relaxing as she saw the love in the depths of warm mocha. “Do you trust me, love?” The duke asked her wife. Swallowing hard, the brunette nodded, and the redhead’s hand tightened a little, squeezing her carotid and compressing her airway, just a little, in time for a hard thrust and swipe of her walls. The brunette’s eyes rolled back in her head as she groaned at the new sensation, planting one hand on Nicole’s hip, digging her nails into her doublet, whimpering at the lack of warm skin beneath her hands as her other hand wrapped around Nicole’s wrist, holding tightly to the arm currently choking her. The coil of pleasure grew impossibly tighter as she groaned at the conflicting sensations of lack of blood and oxygen as Nicole’s hand skillfully balanced a squeeze without completely choking the brunette, and the slap of the redhead’s hand into her center as her walls fought to keep those fingers deep within her. Her sobs of pleasure clued the duke into how close her wife was, and digging her fingers in just a little tighter, she flicked her thumb over the brunette’s clit, sending her spiraling over the edge as that coil snapped and tingles spread through Waverly’s limbs at her shudders of pleasure. “Nic!” she gasped as she sucked in lungfuls of air, twitching beneath the redhead. “Oh God! Nic!”

The duke released her neck, slowing her strokes with her other hand to prolong her wife’s orgasm. Finally, her wife was a quivering mess on the bed, and the redhead removed her other hand, laying on top of the brunette in a full body hug, loving how she clung to the strong redhead above her to ground herself through the final twitches of climax. “Mmmmm” Waverly hummed, clearing her throat before continuing huskily, “Well that was wonderful, but I haven’t lost my voice yet, Your Grace.”

Chuckling as she nipped at her wife’s jaw, the redhead popped out of bed, ignoring the whine emanating from the mouthy brunette at the loss of pressure and warmth. Stripping off her doublet and pants, she rifled through the backpack in just her long, cotton undershirt. Finding what she was looking for, she glanced over her shoulder at the brunette, quirking an eyebrow as she noticed her curious eyes on her. “Strip out of your dress, my love. Then we can continue.” Biting her lip in excitement, the brunette shimmied out of her dress, while the redhead lubed up the strap on after stepping into the boxer base. Grinning as she stroked it, evenly distributing the lube, she delighted in the press of the base against her clit as she stalked towards her wife, grin broadening at the hunger darkening those green depths. The redhead purred inside at the sight of her wife, spreading her legs wider, eager for her strong redhead to sink deep into her, filling and stretching her. Another change to the soundtrack of their lovemaking came in the form of Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” which stretched the redhead’s grin to a feral one. She lay on her wife, making sure to rock her cock against the brunette’s clit as she kissed her deeply, delighting at Waverly’s whimpers of pleasure. The kiss was immediately filthy, tongues battling back and forth before Waverly sucked Nicole’s tongue, enjoying the shudder of pure arousal it elicited. 

Biting hard on the redhead’s lip, she tugged, enjoying the seep of blood from the bruised pillow. “I guess you made a mistake teaching me about biting?” She challenged the redhead. Nicole growled in response, sliding her hands under the brunette’s hips to spin her onto her stomach. She reached for a pillow, sliding it under her hips, angling the duchess’ center up, before roughly sliding two fingers back into the wet warmth. Nicole set a relentless pace, enjoying the muffled moans of pleasure the brunette was shouting into the mattress as she thrust her hips back. 

Clamping the brunette’s legs together, the duke straddled them, leaning over the brunette to growl in her ear. “I absolutely love biting, Waves.” Before she licked the brunette’s earlobe into her mouth to suckle and bite as she lined her cock up with Waverly’s center. She nudged it lightly, drawing her hips barely forward before pulling them back. Nicole let the earlobe pop out of her mouth before kissing softly behind Waverly’s ear and asking, “You okay, my love?” The brunette panted into the mattress and just nodded her head. “Want me to continue?” Nicole asked with another soft kiss. The brunette panted harder, nodding her head and twisting it to the side to capture Nicole’s lips in a messy kiss as she canted her hips eagerly back, waiting to be filled.

Unable to deny either of them any longer, Nicole slid the dildo forward, inch by inch, allowing the brunette time to stretch around her cock. With a huff, Waverly nodded for her to continue, and Nicole pulled out to the tip, before slamming back in. Waverly screamed into the mattress, reaching her hand back to hold tightly to Nicole’s ass, pressing her deeper in. Again, the redhead pulled out before slamming back, reveling in the sobs and screams of pleasure Waverly was panting out. Waverly’s prayers to the powers above as well as the slapping of flesh as their hips joined again and again almost drowned out Nine Inch Nails’ singing of getting closer to God. Nicole leaned back, lifting the brunette’s ass higher in the air before swinging her other hand down to give a resounding smack to the duchess’ ample ass cheek. Waverly shrieked and moaned as Nicole rubbed her hand over the reddening spot, squeezing her ass cheek tighter. “There’s also spanking. Did you like that, Waves?”

Clearing her dry throat, Waverly nodded and answered, “Oh yes. Please do it again. I’m so close, Your Grace.” Purring in her chest at the brunette’s eagerness, Nicole released the squeezed ass cheek, before smacking it resoundingly again, followed immediately by a sharp spank to her other ass cheek. Groaning in euphoria, Waverly shuddered, her pussy walls clamping so hard to the dildo, her greedy pussy almost pulled it right out of the base when Nicole pulled back. The redhead spread Waverly’s legs again before sitting between them on her heels, and pulling her wife up to sit in her lap. The brunette panted at the change in angle, loving how much deeper this new position was and gasping as the redhead wrapped an arm around her chest, grabbing firmly onto her breast and kneading, while the other hand fisted in thick brown waves, tugging hard to expose her neck for licks and bites. The brunette could feel the pressure building, and grabbed the duke’s hand off her breast, pulling it up to her neck to choke her lightly. Waverly could feel the vibrations from the redhead’s chuckles against her throat column, but didn’t care; Nicole had absolutely earned every ounce of cockiness and every smirk. Waverly sobbed out Nicole’s name as the sensations blended together, heightening everything until her orgasm crashed over her again. Blinded by the lights flashing behind her clenched eyelids, and deafened by the roar of blood in her ears, she screamed out Nicole’s name until her voice cracked, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her body. She slumped in the redhead’s arms, panting in exhaustion as she twitched with aftershocks. Nicole chuckled as she hugged her wife’s limp body, kissing along her shoulder and humming as she reached over to turn off the phone. 

Soft laughs from the satiated couple filled the silent air, before a series of strong knocks and shouts threatened to break the door down. The couple jerked apart, glancing at the door as they scrambled to get dressed. Nicole hopped into her pants, glancing at Waverly who paused after pulling on her undershift staring in confusion at the door as a particular voice raised above, hollering, “Waverly! Open this door!” The brunette hurried to the door, undoing the catch to stick her head outside, before the doors were shoved open and Waverly stumbled back as a whirlwind of a tall, loud brunette pushed inside, glaring at the gobsmacked redhead, before taking Waverly into her arms. “Waves! Are you okay? I heard screaming!” 

The smaller brunette was rigid in the stranger’s arms before she huffed and wrapped her arms around her hugging her back tightly. Clearing her throat, Waverly croaked, “Wynonna, I’m fine! My husband and I were just…” She trailed off before turning to look at across the large room at Nicole, her hazel eyes widening in horror at the cock that wasn’t yet tucked fully back into the redhead’s pants. 

Following the line of her sight, the older brunette chuckled and stated, “Oh I can see why there were screams then. Good lord, that’s enormous, and you’re so tiny, Waves.” Blushing fiercely, the duchess broke away from the hug, rushing towards the duke, blocking the flesh-colored member with her body before tucking it safely away and lacing the pants up as she smiled reassuringly into Nicole’s wide brown eyes. Playfully tapping the now tucked away dildo, she winked up into Nicole’s face, before giving her a quick kiss and turning to introduce the two.

“Husband, I’d like you to meet my sister Wynonna Holliday, Baroness Eavesdell. Sister, this is my husband,” Waverly snuggled in tight against the redhead’s side, beaming with pride as she said, “Nic Haught, Duke of York and Davis, Earl of Devonshire.”

Remembering her manners for a brief moment, the Baroness Eavesdell dropped into a curtsey murmuring, “Your Grace.” She stood as Nicole bowed in response.

“’Nonna, what are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is the Baron... or Alice…” Waverly trailed off in worry for her brother-in-law and niece.

The Baroness Eavesdell waved off her sister’s worries, before answering, “John Henry and Alice are well. John Henry has business with Her Majesty, so we were invited to join the court for this portion of the progress. Alice is back at home, and much aggrieved she wasn’t allowed to join us.”

Grinning in relief, Waverly continued, “Well ‘Nonna, if you’ll wait outside in the antechamber, His Grace and I can get changed and we will go to supper together.” She gestured through the doors into the outer room.

Giggling, the brunette cuddled tighter into the redhead’s side, as she whispered, “Well that could have been worse.” She cupped her hand over the dildo, squeezing and pressing the base into Nicole’s clit, smirking at the hiss of pleasure the duke gave at the action. “And you, my lord, did indeed make me lose my voice. Now, I’m famished, and think we should join my sister soon. If we take too long, she will just burst right in again.”

They dressed quickly, Nicole making sure to clean and properly put away the dildo in the backpack, before they joined Wynonna in the antechamber and headed down to supper. Waverly took her usual seat to Her Majesty’s left, and Nicole sat on Her Majesty’s right to allow Wynonna to take the other seat next to Waverly. The two sisters chatted back and forth, occasionally bringing ‘Nonna’s husband, seated on her left, into the conversation. Nicole found Baron John Henry to be a quiet man, the opposite of his brash wife, and early on wondered at how their marriage worked, until the duke noticed John Henry’s thick mustache and beard twitching in amusement at his wife’s antics. 

Chuckling into her wine, the duke allowed her attention to drift until she was drawn back to the conversation at hand at hearing Wynonna address the Queen, “I joke not, Your Majesty! It must have been as long as my forearm! I am appalled I walked in on them, but I was convinced my sister was being attacked!” Brown eyes wide with horror, Nicole spluttered on her wine and spun her head to meet her wife’s equally wide eyes. The two glanced at Her Majesty to gauge her reaction to such an indecorous topic, but the tipsy Queen was giggling into her wine cup, her ears bright red, and likely her cheeks as well under the white lead face paint hiding her pock scars.

“‘Nonna! Stop this! It is inappropriate to discuss!” Waverly croaked at her sister.

“Where has your voice gone, Your Grace?” The Queen asked of the brunette, who blushed fiercely in response. “Could it be from the screams your sister valiantly tried to save you from?” Her Majesty snorted at her own joke into her goblet, as Waverly’s ears flamed impossibly brighter and she glanced at Nicole over the Queen’s shoulder. 

A soft smile passed over the brunette’s face, morphing into an impish grin, as she answered while holding the duke’s gaze. “Well, Your Majesty would be correct. I find an increased appetite for many things in my current condition.”

Biting her lip to hold in her laugh, Nicole glanced at a nearby table to ensure they weren’t being overheard. The duke noticed that Sir Hardy and Lady Stephanie were both red and glowering at their plates in fury. Sneaking a glance back at her wife, she found Waverly giggling at the two, even outright smirking when the Lady Stephanie looked up and met her eye.

Wynonna muttered, quite loudly, “Probably got her with child from across the room with that thing.” John Henry and the Queen guffawed into their wine goblets as Waverly giggled away, and Nicole’s face burned in fresh horror and embarrassment.

The court spent a week at Theobalds House before setting off to the next stop on the progress, Hatfield House. Wynonna and John Henry traveled with the court to Hatfield, and Waverly enjoyed catching up with her sister and brother-in-law. However, they would be going back home before the next leg of the summer progress, which was Lord Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester’s Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire.

Nicole was the most awestruck by the approach to Kenilworth Castle. The carts and carriages rattled along over a dam that acted as an access-way splitting an enormous body of water into two. The young duke flew from one end of the carriage to the other to stick her head out the windows like an eager puppy in an effort to catch sight of the enormity of the Great Mere on either side. A huge man-made lake, spreading a half-mile long, it was the badass grandpappy of the medieval moat commonly depicted in present day media. Kenilworth was a medieval fortress, site of one of the most famous sieges on English soil, but Dudley had turned it into a pleasure palace in an attempt to win the Queen’s favor, as well as her hand. Waverly giggled at her awestruck redhead, and launched into the tale of a summer progress several years before where as they approached the castle, fan-fare erupted from trumpeters lining the way and at the gatehouse, and a woman floated across the Mere towards the Queen on a torch-lit floating island. The woman, dressed all in white as the Arthurian Lady of the Lake from myth, proclaimed imperiously, that the Lord and the Castle were hers to command. 

Giggling, the brunette went on to explain how Her Majesty simply raised an eyebrow and admitted she had been unaware that was not already the case as she was the Queen of all England. Dudley’s face had supposedly flamed as red as a ripe tomato at his failed attempt to woo the Queen. Waverly sighed in longing as she described in detail the elaborate Greco-Roman myth-inspired statues, fountains, and shrubbery that decorated the Garden Dudley had spared no expense on. Continuing along his path of pulling out all the stops to impress the Queen, every dinner the court ate during the stay consisted of bucket loads of oysters, smoked fish, fruits, hazelnuts, smeetmeats, fresh cream, butter, quails, and rabbits. The walls were lined with jewel-encrusted tapestries and fabulous painted silks, as well as enormous windows overlooking the gardens, Mere, and landscape. Her Majesty’s rooms featured the best view in the castle, with enormous windows overlooking the lake as well as a huge carved frieze covering the better part of the walls of the room.

The progress continued over the next few months, from Kenilworth to Woodstock to Windsor with the final stop being Richmond Palace right on the Thames. The couple was exhausted, longing for the peace and quiet of their manor, desperately curious for an update on the status of Grace and the baby. To keep up appearances of their own pregnancy, they had started padding the stomach of some of Waverly’s dresses. Luckily the progress was almost over, so she could retire to their manor in seclusion to prepare for her confinement.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. We are in the final stretch. I appreciate you all sticking with me! I have enjoyed the comments and kudos, and sincerely hope you have loved this story as much as I loved writing it. This chapter has a little bit of fluff, a little flirting, a little angst, and a little cliffhanger.

Finally the day came where they packed everything up and sent it ahead to Whitehall via the carts, while the nobles loaded onto Her Majesty’s royal barge for a leisurely cruise up the Thames.

Nicole relaxed in her seat on the barge, leaning her head back and just enjoying the late summer sun beating down on her face as the light breeze ruffled her red hair. She took a deep calming breath of the mostly fresh air, the breeze carrying away most of the smells of the city and dirty Thames water. Used by most of London as a dumping ground for all refuse, human waste, and offal, the Thames was the main source of cholera for the people of London as they drank from and bathed in the same water they used as a toilet and midden heap. Next to her, Waverly shivered a little and smiling fondly at her wife, Nicole wrapped her in the cloak she had brought for that very purpose. The brunette beamed back, leaning in for a soft kiss before she snuggled into the duke’s arm and continued her conversation with Chrissy.

The redhead leaned her head back again, relaxing in the gentle rocking of the barge as it sailed upriver towards Whitehall. The susurrations of everyone conversing in murmured tones, likewise not wanting to break the spell of water lapping at the barge and the shrieks of seagulls above, almost lulled the duke into a light doze, but a loud scream rent the calm air and hushed conversations. Nicole lurched upright, her head swiveling to find the source of the scream, finally locating a distraught woman on the Thames bank, just shy of the spires of Westminster, sobbing loudly as she screamed at something bobbing in the water, slowly moving downriver from her. The redhead launched herself to the edge of the boat, straining to see what it was the woman was distressed over. The assembled nobles also rushed to the side, chattering away in speculation at what it was, causing the barge to rock violently in the water as all the weight was quickly shifted to one side. 

The redhead’s eyes swept the water as a tiny arm broke the surface and waved before plunging underneath again. Brown orbs widened in horror as she shucked her boots off and clambered up the railing, ready to dive into the river. The duke spared a final glance at her wife whose green eyes were wide and her hand hovering over her mouth in dismay, giving her a reassuring nod, before plunging into the cold waters of the Thames.

The cold almost shocked her into gasping, but she resolutely kept her eyes and mouth closed, desperate to keep the putrid waters out of her orifices. With a wheeze, she broke the surface of the water, blinking rapidly as she glanced around trying to locate the child. Behind her and moving steadily upriver, she could hear the gasps of excitement and terror from the nobles on the barge, and she finally located the woman on the banks who was waving frantically and pointing to a spot downriver from her. Taking a deep breath, Nicole used broad strokes to propel herself through the water, fighting against the faster current in the center of the river to keep from being swept too far downriver. Her doublet was weighing her down, tiring her quickly, so she stripped it off underwater and let it be carried away. Relishing the sudden lightness, she swam quicker towards the woman and her child. The current grew lighter the closer to the river’s edge she got, and she glanced around looking for the child, finally spotting a few yards away, the pale shadow of an arm floating just below the surface, reaching up for salvation.

Diving below water, Nicole gave a series of powerful kicks to propel herself forward, sweeping her arms blindly ahead of her before her left forearm bumped up again another, much smaller forearm. With a bruising grasp, Nicole wrenched on the forearm, tucking the tiny body into hers before kicking for the surface. Heaving for breath as she broke the surface, she yanked the child’s head above the water level, brushing the child’s wet hair from its face as she looked for signs of life.

There were none, however. The child’s eyes were closed, lips a light blue from the cold water and lack of air. Treading water as she glanced around, she found they were much farther downstream than expected. No longer close to the shallow banks of the Thames where the child’s mother waited, hands wringing in anxiety, but hemmed in by massive walls shoring up the Thames’s edge. Continuing to tread water, she blew two short, sharp breaths into the child’s mouth before pulling it into a hug and rapping her hand hard several times on the child’s back. She pulled the child back, blew two more breaths, and recommenced rapping the child’s back.

“Nic!” the tiring redhead heard her wife’s shout, and noticed the barge had drifted back downriver and sidled up next to them. She passed the child up to reaching hands, before grasping one and letting herself be hauled out of the water to flop wetly onto the barge. She crawled towards the little girl, who had been laid out on the deck, eyes still closed, and looking as though asleep; drenched in her brown dress, but asleep, ready to wake with a word or soft touch. Nicole leaned down to press her ear to the child’s chest, listening for sounds of breathing, but received none. She blew two more sharp breaths into her mouth, and heaved on the child’s chest over and over, before bending to force two more breaths into her tiny lungs. So lost in her chants of “Staying Alive” to keep pace, Nicole barely noticed her wife breaking from the surrounding nobles to kneel next to her, and attempt to pull her arms away from the little girl.

“Nic. My love. She is with God now.” Waverly murmured, trying to break through the tunnel vision the duke had developed. She tugged again on the redhead’s arms, but Nicole just pulled her arms back, and kept up the chant as she compressed the child’s chest, struggling to keep her heart beating.

Dirty Thames water streaming down her face, mingling with the hot tears she didn’t even realize were overflowing from her eyes, Nicole swiped her face, and leant down to blow another two breaths into the little girl’s mouth.

Suddenly, the little girl gasped against Nicole’s lips, turning onto her side to vomit the offending fetid water out onto the deck. A series of gasps, claps, and praises to God rose up around them as the nobles cheered the life returning to the little girl. Nicole leaned into her wife’s side in exhaustion, smiling that she had succeeded, paying no mind to the water ruining Waverly’s dress, as the brunette leaned into her spouse, offering support. The duchess rubbed the little girl’s back, demanding a cloak to wrap the child in as she noticed the shivers racking the little one’s body. Waverly stripped the dress off the little girl, and wrapped her up in the enormous cloak that was handed to her. She cuddled the little one to her chest, stroking her hair as she wheezed, before standing and heading to the barge’s edge to hold the little girl aloft and show her distraught mother she was fine.

The redhead noticed through gaps in the legs surrounding her, the mother give an almighty sob of relief and fall to her knees to cry and pray to God for the deliverance of her child in the shadow of Westminster. Nicole glanced up, meeting her wife’s eyes, giving her a tired smile, which the brunette returned with a proud beam. She mouthed, “I love you” to the redhead, but then her eyes widened and she quickly handed the bundled child off to another noblewoman. She called for Chrissy, and rushed to her confused spouse’s side as she swept the cloak from around her own shoulders and wrapped the redhead up tightly. Nicole hadn’t even noticed her shivers, but was unsure if that was what had caused such fear in her wife’s expression. She blinked in confusion as she met her wife’s worried hazel gaze as Chrissy dropped to her knees next to them.

“Chrissy, please ensure His Grace remains bundled up tightly.” Waverly gave a tiny nod in the direction of Nicole’s chest, and Chrissy’s blue gaze followed the glance, before also widening in horror as she swept her own cloak off to wrap around the duke. Waverly leaned into the redhead’s ear before murmuring very quietly, “My love, your undershirt is almost transparent and is clinging to body parts that should not be there.”

In a panic, Nicole tugged the cloaks tighter around herself, as with Waverly and Chrissy’s assistance she stood and tottered over to their chairs before slumping down in exhaustion. She smiled and nodded tiredly at each noble that stepped up to commend her bravery as the barge sidled upriver and to the bank’s edge to pass the child off to her mother.

“Chrissy,” Nicole croaked out. “Tell her mother to boil every drop of water, and give her water often to prevent her getting sick from the dirty Thames water.” The blonde nodded curtly in understanding, before rising to her feet to accompany the noble passing the child off to her mother. Nicole grinned at her wife as she said, “Love, I think we will need a nice warm bath when we get back to Whitehall to wash this smell off.” Waverly’s worried hazel eyes, lightened a bit as she grinned back, nodding her agreement as she giggled at her silly and insatiable spouse. 

Closing her eyes in exhaustion, the duke leaned against her wife as the aches and strain started to settle into her muscles and bones. Distantly, she heard her wife informing Her Majesty’s physician that his services were not needed, and that His Grace was just taking a small nap. She smiled a tiny smile at her wonderful wife protecting her secret before ignoring the small man’s affronted splutters and continuing to chat with Chrissy. Soon, she succumbed to her exhaustion, sliding slowly into a deep sleep, rousing only to stagger into Whitehall once the barge docked, and slide into a warm bath in front of her wife who cuddled her and stroked her skin with a washcloth as the duke dozed in her arms.

Unfortunately, they had no time to relax as the whole next week was spent making arrangements for Waverly to go to the manor house for several months in “confinement,” which was the medieval way of “cleansing” a woman before the “dirty” business of childbirth, as well as preparing for Chrissy’s wedding. Randy was ecstatic, even more so that she would remain close to home. Michelle herself was pregnant already, and the couple happily accepted the duke and duchess’ gift of a luxuriously soft blanket for the baby as well as their fervent congratulations. Randy pulled the duke aside and said that he was hoping that if it was a boy, he could name it Nic after the redhead. She shook his hand heartily, a grin splitting her face in two as she gave her assent, even going so far as to volunteer Waverly and herself as godparents. Randy returned Nicole’s hearty handshake thanking her profusely. Belatedly, it occurred to the redhead that she probably should have checked with her wife before offering, but too late now!

Two days before the wedding, Sir Perry was invited to the White Dragon for an early supper to meet his soon-to-be father-in-law. Chrissy graciously extended the invitation to Waverly and Nicole as well and they all piled into a carriage to be taken to the inn. It was a pleasant ride, Waverly and Perry chatted away while Chrissy and Nicole rode in a companionable silence staring out the window and sharing the occasional grin of excitement. Soon enough they arrived at the inn, and Perry stepped out first, before turning to help Chrissy and Waverly out. Nicole hopped out last trying to look at the White Dragon for the first time through Waverly’s eyes. The redhead found no faults with the place. It was clean, freshly painted for Randy and Michelle’s own wedding. The White Dragon sign barely creaked as it blew in the light breeze. Waverly clutched Nicole’s arm and exclaimed loudly to Chrissy, and Randy as he stepped out to greet them, how quaint it was. Chrissy blushed, but took Perry’s arm and turned to introduce him to Randy. Randy bowed and they exchanged handshakes, before the tavern keeper quickly pulled him into a strong hug, clapping him loudly on the back as he greeted him as “son.” Perry’s hair and clothes were a little roughed up after the hug ended, but he had a congenial smile on his face. Nicole noticed that the light that entered his eyes when they was around Chrissy was real, so she had no doubts of the truth of his feelings for Chrissy, and he seemed to genuinely like Randy. Nicole also earned a hug from Randy, while Michelle swept Chrissy into a tight embrace, and then swept a deep curtsey to the duke and duchess. Chrissy and Randy shared a particularly special hug, complete with tears of happiness, and the rest of the assemblage went into the inn to allow them their moment of privacy. Michelle sent the coach driver off with a mug of ale and a plate of warm food as thanks for waiting, then turned to getting everyone settled in at the table. Randy and Chrissy joined the group, surreptitiously wiping the tears from their eyes. The tavern was closed to the public that night, so it was a private supper of roast venison and potatoes with a cask of Randy’s best mead, lubricating the stories and laughter that buoyed them through the night.

However, eventually it grew too late and they piled into the carriage to be taken back to the palace for the night. Randy and Michelle would come join them early the next morning for the wedding.

When Nicole woke up the next morning, Waverly wasn’t in bed, but the duke was told by the servant waiting with her breakfast that she had gone to help Chrissy get ready for the wedding. The redhead ate her breakfast, and dressed in her finest doublet, ready to go join the groom.

When she arrived at his room, he wasn’t alone; his father and three older brothers were there and introductions were quickly made. The groom was pacing back and forth, his hose on backwards and no doublet, but in his nervousness he didn’t even notice. The redhead sat down with the father and brothers, enjoying the last of the cask of ale the duke had gifted Perry and they just watched for a few quiet minutes. Nicole certainly remembered her nerves before marrying Waverly and that led to a pleasant exchange of stories amongst them all. Eventually his oldest brother got fed up and caught Perry up in a bear hug. Perry struggled a bit, apparently trying to continue his pacing, but sagged eventually, giving into the comfort offered. Nicole passed the groom a tall goblet of wine and he downed it. It seemed to revive him; he stood straighter and took a deep, calming breath. He looked down at his hose and sheepishly, pulled them off and put them on again, this time properly. Together, they all got the now much calmer groom dressed; they gave him watered down cups of wine regularly, but with the fortification his clothes were all on, properly she might add, and his black hair brushed and face washed. Eventually the time arrived and they went to the chapel. 

It wasn’t the same one Waverly and Nicole were married in; this one was much smaller, but the audience in attendance was also much smaller than theirs had been, less than a third. It was a much more intimate event, which was preferable to both the bride and the groom. Randy and Michelle were right up front, and Perry’s brothers and father went to join his mother who was chatting with Michelle. The duke found Waverly waiting for her in the second row, just behind Randy, who was turned in his seat talking to Nicole’s wife. The chapel slowly filled, the various guests chatting with each other, but a dead silence started at the back and rolled forward like a wave, and every head turned in their seats to watch Sir Perry and Chrissy walk down the aisle. Chrissy looked absolutely radiant, her happiness bringing a glow to her face and a light to her blue eyes as she beamed at the assembled loved ones. Perry himself stared at Chrissy in awe, nearly tripping himself a few times as they proceeded down the aisle. It was a blur of a ceremony, the priest droning on, and the rustling of fabric and creaking of wooden pews as restless guests shifted in their seats. Eventually it was over and the happy couple walked down the aisle amidst a roar of cheers and claps.

Supper that night was roast quail and boiled potatoes and vegetables. They had overly salted everything, so the wine was flowing freely. The redhead had had a few glasses, and was not paying enough attention. Therefore, when her empty wineglass was filled for a fourth time, she did not notice who filled it. But it was as Nicole was reaching for it to wash down a particularly salty bite of quail, that Waverly swooped in and swiped it out of the duke’s hand, taking a big swallow of her wine, her hazel eyes squinting in mischief as she smiled at Nicole over the rim of her pilfered cup. She laughed at the brunette’s brazenness and accepted back her now almost empty cup of wine. Raising it to her lips, she paused as Waverly started clearing her throat loudly. The redhead looked at her in slight worry, setting down her wine goblet to attend to her wife. She looked at Nicole in panic, her hands going to her throat as she spluttered foam out of her mouth with each cough.

“Waverly!” Nicole screamed and jumped out of her seat. The brunette stood up as Nicole did, her face changing color as she struggled for breath. “Waverly!” Nicole screamed again and caught her as she collapsed. The duke gently set her on the ground, screaming for help. Through her tears she noticed a crowd gathering around them, at the front of which was the Queen hollering for a physician. The panicked redhead glimpsed through the press of legs around her the fireplace against the wall. She stood up shakily, and shoved her way out of the crowd to the fireplace. There was a bucket of water next to it to douse the flames at the end of the meal. Nicole pulled out a hot piece of wood, dropping it in pain as the heat scorched blisters into her palms. The duke glanced around and screamed at a page to bring her a cup. He quickly thrust one into Nicole’s injured hands and she slammed the end down on the charred end of wood repeatedly, smashing it into a powder. When she had enough to scoop into a fistful, she tossed it into the cup and added some water, stirring it vigorously with her finger to mix it into a mush. Everyone was still gathered around Waverly, and only the page was witness to Nicole’s mad concocting. At least, until Nicole looked up and caught Her Majesty’s querying gaze. The redhead shoved her way back through the crowd to her wife’s side. Waverly was now a definite blue color from lack of oxygen, cyanotic around her lips. Carefully, Nicole dribbled the crushed charcoal mixture into her mouth, swiping any drops that missed back into her mouth. The redhead gripped her under the jaw forcing it up to open a passage, then attempted to massage the mixture down her throat, pouring fresh water in after it to help it along. There was a tense silence as people watched on in shock, some whispering amongst themselves. Nicole put her head to Waverly’s face, trying to feel even the faintest breath on her cheek, her fingers on the brunette’s throat searching for a pulse. But she could feel nothing from her.

Tilting her wife’s head back to open an airway, Nicole blew two hard breaths down into her lungs, before placing her hands on her chest to start chest compressions, singing “Another One Bites the Dust” under her breath to measure her count. When she reached thirty compressions, Nicole checked again for breath sounds and a pulse. Feeling nothing, she began again falling into a comfortable and practiced rhythm, her brain distancing itself from the fact that this was her wife, who she loved more than anything in the world; it was just another patient. The process kept her heart beating, her blood pumping through her body and oxygen in her lungs while Nicole waited and prayed for the charcoal to bind with the toxins of the poison. Time blurred until finally as Nicole was taking a second breath to force down her wife’s throat, Waverly inhaled a huge breath on her own, and immediately coughed incessantly, spewing charcoal out of her mouth and nose. The former EMT sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her face as she gave her wife the room she needed to double up with her coughs. Her coughs subsided and, spent, she collapsed sideways into Nicole’s arms. The redhead kissed her temple, both of them breathing hard. Nicole dabbed her handkerchief in water, then cleaned the charcoal from around Waverly’s mouth and nostrils.

The crush of sound popped the bubble of concentration Nicole had around her. The Queen was ordering everyone out, and Chrissy’s new husband was interrogating the sobbing pageboy who had brought Nicole the wine. Her Majesty, having given her orders to have the room cleared, stepped up next to him, who with a bow stepped aside. She then commenced interrogating the pageboy, and Nicole noticed Chrissy on her knees next to her, beautiful wedding dress ruined by the charcoal vomited out by Waverly. With tear-filled, wide blue eyes, she took the wet handkerchief from Nicole’s hands and proceeded to clean off Waverly herself, allowing the duke to put all of her attention to hugging and kissing her exhausted wife. The Queen stepped up to them, and Nicole wiped her eyes free of tears and struggled to stand and lift her wife up so they could bow and curtsey, but the Queen waved Nicole off.

“Sit, Davis. Tend to your wife; she has been through quite an ordeal.” Her Majesty nodded in affirmation when Nicole sat back down and pulled Waverly into her lap. “The young boy has told us that he was handed the wine by a ‘bearded gentleman with a green and yellow bruise around his eye’ with instructions to give it to the Duke Davis.” She paused to let Nicole make the connection to Hardy, then continued when she saw the anger suffuse the duke’s face. “But he was unable to name the man specifically. We will continue our investigation into who tried to poison you, and the guilty party will be punished, but we will need hard evidence before anything drastic is done.” Her Majesty’s eyes were black with anger, but her face set regally as she tried to appear impartial.

Nicole nodded her head grimly, already sure of Hardy’s guilt. Waverly clutched at Nicole’s hand feebly and brought the redhead’s attention back to her.

“Darling,” she croaked. “Can they go back to our rooms? I would like to rest.”

Nicole nodded and kissed her temple, before gathering Waverly in her arms, and stood up. 

“Davis?” The Queen asked as Nicole bowed to her with intentions to take their leave. “What was that concoction you forced down her throat?”

“Charcoal, Your Majesty. In my land, it is well-known as a powerful antidote to most poisons because it absorbs the toxins.”

Her Majesty nodded and the redhead could see the wheels of her mind spinning, most likely trying to figure out how to keep charcoal powder close at hand in case of poisonings of her royal person in future. Nicole bowed a final time, thanked Chrissy and her husband, and carried Waverly back to their rooms where the duke stripped the duchess down herself and laid her in bed. Nicole curled around her tightly, spooning her and kissing the back of her head.

For the next four days they didn’t leave their room as Waverly recovered from her poisoning. Her Majesty sent her personal physician to check on Waverly and the baby the next morning, but Nicole turned him away because she knew she could take care of her wife better than he could with his medieval medicine, plus she couldn’t risk him discovering the duchess wasn’t pregnant. Queen Elizabeth herself even came to visit them on the second day to check on Waverly’s health; she seemed particularly eager to make sure that the baby’s health was not harmed by the events of two nights ago. 

Waverly regained enough strength over the four days that Nicole was able to bundle her off on the fifth day to their manor house. She would be safe enough in her seclusion there for the remainder of her pregnancy. The couple spent the next three months at the manor house with Nicole making routine trips to the car to start the car and run the battery, as well as fill up on essentials, especially hygiene products as Waverly had started using Nicole’s pads, delighted at how clean they kept one, and the duke was running low. They returned to court for Christmas and New Year’s, Mary and Grace having labored to sew more padding into some of Waverly’s dresses to approximate a baby bump. The duchess had a wonderful time being back at court and catching up with the gossip from their absence. Meanwhile, the Queen consulted with Nicole for a week straight on what could be expected when Hardy’s expedition was sent off to colonize the New World after the New Year started. It was shortly after Christmas day that they received news that Chrissy was pregnant, so Waverly picked out a beautiful silver rattle to send them as a gift. 

The New Year started and Grace was now five months pregnant, the baby due in early May, shortly before Waverly’s birthday. The nursery had been completed and Grace and James were now situated in an adjacent room. The servants were all sworn to secrecy, but Grace assured the duke that they were all loyal to Waverly and Nicole regardless. They celebrated Nicole’s birthday in January, and Waverly gave the redhead a beautifully illuminated manuscript of the _Canterbury Tales_ by Geoffrey Chaucer, as well as an additional gift that night. In late March, Queen Elizabeth officially gave Hardy the charter and he was away from court for a month to organize the expedition. In late April, Queen Elizabeth sent a messenger, bidding Nicole to come back to court so they could go over a few last minute items regarding Hardy’s expedition to start a colony in the New World. Nicole kissed Waverly goodbye and rode Shadow back out to court, where for two days Her Majesty had a barrage of questions for her. On the third morning, as she was playing a game of tennis with Sir Perry, getting her ass absolutely handed to her by him, a young page boy came sprinting up the viewing gallery beside the tennis court.

“Your Grace! My Lord York!” he hollered, then paused to catch his breath. She glanced at him, noticing that everyone else stopped to listen in. “Your Grace, the Duchess of York has sent a messenger to tell you that her labor is beginning. You must hasten back to the manor to meet your new child!”

She stood frozen in shock, as Sir Perry vaulted the net to clap Nicole on the shoulder and offer his fervent congratulations. She swung around to look wide-eyed at him, and with a laugh, he shoved Nicole lightly on the shoulder, “Go! You must change and hurry back to be with Her Grace and await your child!”

The duke dropped the wooden paddle that served as a racket, and took off towards her rooms. Nicole threw on some riding clothes, sent a page boy with a quickly penned note to the Queen explaining her quick departure, and raced out to the stables to hop on Shadow. Shadow’s hoofbeats were a calming staccato as they hurried through the streets of London until they could open up in the countryside. The redhead’s thoughts were a whirling storm of excitement and worry for Grace. Nicole pushed Shadow as hard as she dared once they reached the open countryside, and a couple hours later they were cantering up the lane to the manor. She hopped off Shadow, patting his sweating and heaving flanks to thank him for getting them there so speedily, before she passed the reins to a groom and hurried inside. Another groom opened the front door and loud screams of pain billowed out into the quiet afternoon sky. Nicole hurried down the hallways and up the stairs to James and Grace’s room, where the young man was pacing back and forth outside, chewing his fingernails to the quick. A priest stood beside him, watching calmly as James wore a hole in Nicole’s hallway rug. As the duke clattered around the corner, James looked up at her and a smile broke across his face, before immediately being replaced by a look like he was going to be sick. She clapped him on the shoulder and with her biggest grin told him to go wash his face, and have a glass of her whiskey for his nerves. He gulped and headed off, casting a final green look at the closed door as Grace gave a particularly loud holler of pain. The duke walked up to the door, her hand on the doorknob, ready to enter before the priest placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Your Grace, you cannot go inside, it has not been blessed yet, and as such is unclean.” He informed her pompously. She didn’t even spare him more than a glance, before she shrugged his hand off, and walked in, closing the door firmly in his face. Four sets of eyes turned to look at Nicole as she entered, Grace’s blue ones wide with pain, Mary and the midwife’s wide in shock, and Waverly’s hazel eyes with relief. The duke strode up to Waverly’s side, placing her arm around the brunette’s waist and squeezed in comfort as she directed her attention back to Grace. 

Waverly and Mary each had one of Grace’s hands clasped in their grip, and Grace looked at the redhead, stating, “Thank you for comin’, Your Graaace!” She screamed the last word as another contraction came. The midwife ducked down below the sheet draped across Grace’s legs and announced she could see the head. A few more hollers of pain, and with a final grunt and scream that tapered off, Grace gave an almighty push and the baby slid into the midwife’s hands. Grace’s cries had subsided into exhausted pants, to be replaced by the screams of a distressed and suddenly cold baby. The midwife worked quickly to snip the umbilical cord and bundle it up. Mary took a wet cloth and cleaned the sweat from Grace’s flushed face. The midwife passed the bundled baby to Nicole and Waverly, each of them supporting it together, gazing down at warm brown eyes and a thatch of vibrant red hair. 

Clearing her throat, the midwife announced to Grace, “You ‘ave a fine, ‘ealthy, baby boy. ‘E’s a good size, wi’ ten fingers an’ ten toes.” To which all of them beamed. The duke and duchess carefully handed the baby to Grace who gazed down in wonder at her son. She brushed a shaking finger along his wide brow, and down his dainty nose to trace his perfect lips. She looked up at Waverly and Nicole with tears flowing down her face.

“He’s beautiful, Your Graces.” Beaming, as tears streamed down their faces, they nodded their assent with her statement. “But what should we name him?” She asked of them. Looking at each other, it was Waverly who responded, “Grace, he is yours and James’. What would you like to name him?”

Grace gazed down at her son in thought, before asking, “He may be ours, but he is to be your son and heir, so he needs a noble name. How does Edward sound?” Waverly and Nicole clutched each other in joy and agreed that that was a fine name. The duke interjected with, “How about Edward James?” Grace beamed up at her, tears of joy spilling from her blue eyes, nodding fervently. Edward mewled in Grace’s arms, and glancing down, she pulled a breast free and popped the nipple in his mouth so he could suckle. Nicole blinked and glanced away, turning a little red, and her wife giggled at her, placing a quick kiss to the redhead’s cheek, before leaning her head against Nicole’s shoulder to watch their “son” suckle himself to sleep in Grace’s arms. Mary and the midwife took the sleeping baby from Grace’s arms to wash him in the basin of warm water, before Mary passed Nicole’s heir into the duke’s arms. The awestruck teen gazed down at him, admiring his teeny nose, scrunching in sleep, and his long thick eyelashes. 

She lightly kissed his brow, breathing in that powdery new baby scent as Waverly looked over Nicole’s shoulder and murmured in her ear, “He even looks like you, husband.” Nicole grinned up at Waverly, who winked in response, and then at Grace, who was starting to take long blinks and gave a massive yawn. “You did well, Grace. Rest and I’ll take Edward out to meet his father.” Just before she left the room, Nicole saw Waverly passing the midwife a purse of coins for her silence. She stepped through the door, closing it firmly behind her and met James’ eager eyes. She grinned at him, and seeing the bundle in Nicole’s arms, he beamed back at the duke. 

She stepped forward to pass him his son, and murmured, “James, meet Edward James Haught, the next Duke of Davis and York, Earl of Devonshire.” His brown eyes were overflowing with pride and joy and his smile seemed about to split his face as he gazed down at his sleeping son.

The duke stepped downstairs to meet the messenger Her Majesty had sent with beautiful dark wood carved crib as well as her congratulations on the birth of Nicole son and heir. They promptly placed the crib in James and Grace’s room as soon as the priest had baptized Edward and left with his own purse of coins. The next few months were spent helping Grace and James take care of Edward, and more often than not, Waverly would be found having stolen him to cuddle in a chair by the fire in the library, dozing with him asleep in her arms.

Shortly after Edward turned three months old, Her Majesty sent a messenger stating that Hardy’s endeavor had arrived safely and would send word once they had established the colony. She also mentioned that she wished for the duke to join her for a hunt the next morning. Nicole bade Waverly and their quickly growing boy a tearful goodbye, before heading to Whitehall on Shadow’s back.

The redhead arrived at Whitehall at dusk and headed straight into supper, which was an excited affair as people chatted about the hunt the next morning. Perry in particular was animated about it and Chrissy sat next to him smiling as she rested her hand on her belly; at seven months, she was quite big, and would be going into her confinement the next day. With a massive grin, she informed Nicole that Michelle had given birth to a baby boy, which Randy had indeed named Nic after the duke. It was a nice evening, but Nicole was missing the quiet suppers around their table at the manor, with Waverly smiling across the table at her, and nights spent reading to Nicole’s quickly growing boy.

In the morning, the duke was woken in the pre-dawn hours by a page, who promptly took off to continue waking everyone else up for the hunt. Nicole layered up, knowing it was freezing cold but sure to get hotter as the day progressed. When she got outside, Shadow was already waiting for her with all of his tack on. After mounting, the redhead looked around and saw she wasn’t the only blurry-eyed yawning person falling asleep on a horse. Her Majesty, however, was near the front, wide-awake and barking orders. With a shout, they all started plodding forward; it was a small hunt with probably forty people in total. They passed through London, escorted by men at arms, and exited out through a city gate heading towards a forest outside Monchester. It was a slow plodding pace and therefore took a few hours to get to the forest, reaching it as the sun was nearing its zenith.

Sir Perry, riding alongside her, kept up a stream of conversation that went in one ear and out the other. The redhead was distracted; she couldn’t wait to get back to the manor and be with her family. 

Eventually, Her Majesty ordered the hounds released, as they were meant to herd their prey towards them as they continued deeper into the forest. Deep within, they heard the baying of the hounds as they located something for the group to hunt and everyone hurried their steeds in the direction of the hounds. Suddenly, there was a wave of sound as howling, screaming bandits crashed out of the underbrush, charging at the party. The men at arms turned to face them, hollering back and they collided with intermittent dull thuds and steel clangs from weapons. Nicole spurred Shadow forward to reach the Queen’s side who was shouting orders. She drew the attention of a few of the bandits who rushed to attack her. The redhead drew her sword, swinging it at one bandit, biting deep into his shoulder. He fell in a heap, taking her lodged sword with him. She was defenseless as the other two attacked, their daggers biting deep into their horses’ sides. With screams of pain, they both went down, and Nicole jumped free of Shadow before he landed. The terrified and injured stallion struggled to his feet and ran off in the direction of home and help. The redhead lunged at one bandit, hitting him straight in the nose with her fist, and swiped his legs out from under him. With him out of her way, she ran towards the Queen who was struggling to not be trampled by her own frightened and injured horse who was struggling onto his feet. Grabbing the Queen by the upper arm, the redhead pulled her free and up onto her feet. The panicked horse bowled over the third bandit, and Nicole had a moment to notice the men at arms were still heavily engaged by the bandits.

She yanked the Queen around, shouting into her face to be heard over the din of battle, to follow her. The redhead ran west in the direction of Monchester and could hear Her Majesty following behind, tripping her way through the underbrush in her hunting dress. The bandits yelled at a couple of their fellows to follow them, but Nicole didn’t turn around to make sure how many were actually giving chase. They crashed through bushes, ripping their garments on thorns and branches, but they exited the forest just south of Monchester. Her Majesty tried to turn towards Monchester and what she perceived as safety, but the ruffians barreled out of the trees standing on the road between them and Monchester. There were four of them, including the one whose nose Nicole had apparently broken, each uglier and dirtier than the last, but what was worse were the wicked grins as they smiled rotten, gap-toothed grins at them, sensing easy prey. Nicole backed them slowly up, scanning the trees for a familiar landmark. Finally she saw it, and grabbed the Queen, dragging her royal personage along behind her back into the forest. The bandits shouted and followed the two into the forest again. They reached Nicole’s car and the redhead set to work yanking the concealing branches off.

The Queen screamed from behind her, “A dragon!” Nicole spun around to look at her. She was disheveled, white lead face paint smeared as her smallpox pockmarks peeked through, wispy red hair flying loose, clothes ripped, but she was gazing in abject horror, backing away from Nicole’s car.

“No, Your Majesty. It is not a dragon.” Nicole yanked her passenger door open. “It is called a car, and where I come from it is a mode of transportation. Now get in.” The redhead ordered the Queen of England, gesturing into her passenger seat. When she hesitated, Nicole yelled. “Now, Elizabeth!” and ran around to climb into the driver’s seat. The duke closed the door behind her and she heard the passenger door slam shut as the Queen clambered in. Praying under her breath, the teen started the car up, the battery barely catching, and threw it into gear. Nicole floored it and they flew forward, directly at the bandits who dove sideways to get out of the way.

The redhead was just driving, unsure of where she was going, but eager to get the Queen free of such a dangerous place. It occurred to her to head in the direction of the manor, where she could park the car in the woods to hide it again as well as have it close at hand to start it every so often. Nicole glanced in the rearview mirror to see if they were free of the bandits when the Queen cried out, “Davis!” and looking forward, the duke had enough time to register a downed tree in their path. She swerved hard, but they couldn’t avoid it, hitting it with enough force that the airbags deployed and Nicole blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't hate me about the little cliffhanger. It'll be answered in the final chapter next week. ;)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for coming along on this ride! I sincerely hope you all enjoyed it!

When she came to, there was a light shining in Nicole’s eyes. Slowly she opened them, squinting against the light and the roaring pain in her head. She frantically glanced to her right looking for the Queen, but she was gone. Startled, the redhead sat up fast, looking around for Her Majesty, but groaned at the blinding pain that movement elicited in her head.

“Whoa, sonny, calm down.” A voice said from Nicole’s left and the flashlight was removed from her eyes. She glanced outside, moving her head slowly and saw a cop and two EMTs standing outside the car.

“Pupils equal and reactive.” The EMT told his partner behind him. “What’s your name?” This was directed at the teen.

“Nic.” She croaked in response.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked. The second question in determining a person’s mental orientation. Nicole’s brain moved sluggishly, trying to understand why there was a cop and EMTs in medieval England. He repeated the question and it all clicked into place.

“Not sure exactly where I am, but I am A&O times three.” The EMT blinked in surprise at Nicole’s use of the terminology for "alert and oriented" despite the fact that she was in fact _very_ disoriented.

“Former EMT-B.” Nicole answered his unspoken question. She unlocked her seatbelt and tried to climb out of the car, careening sideways into him, but he steadied her.

“Take it easy,” he said. “The airbag hit you hard.”

Nicole nodded her understanding, leaning on his proffered arm as she surveyed the damage to her car. It was in a ditch on the side of the road where she had been run off by that truck so many months ago. Months? A year? Nicole looked around, the ground was still wet, but the sky was clear. The front bumper of her car was caved in, and a tow truck was on scene, ready to pull it out.

“Son, do you remember what happened?” the cop asked, stepping up with a notepad and pen poised, ready to take notes.

“Yes, sir.” Nicole replied. “It was storming and a truck was heading right towards me on my side of the road; I had to swerve to avoid hitting him, but the last thing I remember was the ditch and his lights continuing on without stopping.”

The cop nodded, writing it down, then flipped his pad shut, and put it away in his pocket. “It was a drunk driver. We found his truck flipped a mile or so farther down the road. He was so intoxicated, he was still legally drunk when we found him.”

The tow truck driver had hooked up Nicole’s car, and with a loud groan of metal straining, began winching it up out of the ditch. She shivered, realizing her clothes were soaked through, and a glance at her windshield confirmed it was broken, the interior of her car ruined by the icy rain. The second EMT wrapped Nicole in a blanket and the redhead was ushered into the ambulance where they took her to the nearest hospital. Her parents arrived a few hours later, having been called by the police when they ran the KSR on Nicole’s car. Her Mom was sobbing, while her Dad looked grey with worry, but the teen assured them both that she was fine. Dad left Mom with Nicole and went to load her stuff into their car so they could personally drive Nicole the rest of the way up to Davis once she was deemed healthy enough to check out of the hospital.

The rest of the drive up, Mom tried to talk to the teenager, but Nicole was so silent she gave up and the redhead could see her sharing worried glances with Dad. She couldn’t help being so silent, however; her mind was thousands of miles and hundreds of years away. Thoughts raced through Nicole’s head. Was it all a dream? Was it real? What happened to Waverly? Was she even real? Had the Duke of Davis and York even made it into the annals of history? She had tried to check her phone for the pictures she had taken, but it was still dead, soaked through by the rain. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the black glass surface of her smart phone, and saw a dark bruise on her neck. She smiled, remembering Waverly’s exuberance their last night together, which had resulted in that bruise. It hit Nicole that maybe the hickey was proof of Waverly, of Nicole really going back in time, but a dark cloud covered her ray of hope. The EMT had mentioned that there was excessive bruising of the teen’s neck and face from the airbag deploying.

The family arrived at Nicole’s new apartment in Davis and Mom exclaimed over how cute it was. A traditional college town, everything within walking distance, kids with backpacks everywhere. They unloaded the car and set everything up in the apartment. Mom fixed them up a nice dinner after going to the local supermarket to fill the student’s fridge, and her parents spent the night in her bed, while she slept on the couch. Well, “slept” is a way of putting it; she really just tossed and turned all night, her mind racing, unable to cuddle the warm body she had grown accustomed to sleeping next to. She dozed periodically during the night, waking early in the morning to Mom making a racket in the kitchen. She startled awake, confused as to her whereabouts, but she remembered she was no longer in Elizabethan England. Mom brought in a plate of eggs benedict with hash browns, a specialty of hers. Dad joined them and they ate around Nicole’s coffee table, Dad watching the morning news as Mom peppered Nicole with questions that she barely managed to answer. The teen pushed her yolky hashbrowns around the plate, unable to eat more than the few bites she had. The redhead overheard her mom whispering about PTSD and depression to her dad, so she made more of an effort to pay attention and respond to her parents and the redhead saw Mom relaxing as she perceived Nicole as coming out of her “funk” as she called it. An hour and a half later Mom and Dad were on their way back home; Dad had made arrangements to have Nicole’s car fixed and brought up to her.

Mom was probably right about the depression, however. Nicole spent the next three days hardly leaving her apartment, barely eating, barely sleeping, completely fixated on Waverly and the events of what, to Nicole, had been the past year. She missed Waverly more than she could express; the world was gray and meaningless, a piece of her was missing; everything ever said about losing a spouse suddenly was completely true. She had no appetite, couldn’t sleep, nothing filled this emptiness she felt. The teen found herself reflecting more and more on individual things about Waverly. It started with her hazel eyes, and her smile, the way her cheeks dimpled and eyes squinted when she laughed. Then it was the sound of her laugh, how it came from deep inside her when she thought something was really funny; Nicole called it her “dork laugh.” Late at night, alone in bed, she found herself remembering the heat of her, how soft her skin was, the swell of her hip leading into the dip of her side as she had her back to her. In the mornings, Nicole missed the familiar feel of the brunette’s head on her shoulder, her breath warm and surprisingly sweet against her neck and cheek. She missed holding the boy Nicole was raising as her own, staring down into his brown eyes, and stroking his thatch of soft red hair. She missed his giggles as she blew raspberries on his tummy, and the cute little sneeze he’d give when she booped him on this tiny little nose. She had never gotten the chance to meet her namesake Nicole, or even to find out whether Chrissy had given birth to a boy or girl. Her heart was broken, not just with missing her wife and son, but with missing her friends and the life that she had established in England.

The fourth day, she had to get her act together. She showered, packed her backpack and went off to her first day of class. The redhead had chosen a course load heavy on history, and her last class of the day was Medieval European History. She had poured over her textbook for two nights straight, looking for any mention of the Duke and/or Duchess of Davis and York, even the Countess of Devonshire, Waverly Earp, and Nicole Haught. She found mentions of Sir James Hardy and Queen Elizabeth, but nothing on the two of them.

The redhead attended class, and was zoned out for most of it. The professor asked a few trivia questions to gauge how much people already knew about Medieval European History. The first one that drew Nicole’s attention was “What year did Sir James Hardy establish the colony of Roanoke?”

Her hand raised of its own accord, and the professor called on her. “1585.” She responded, which earned a smile from the professor.

Next question was, “How long was Mary, Queen of Scots imprisoned by Queen Elizabeth?”

Again, Nicole raised her hand and was apparently the only one to do so. “19 years.” The teen answered, earning another smile.

Smirking, with an eyebrow raised, the teacher asked the next question, “Who was the Virgin Queen’s great love?”

“Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.” Nicole answered without even raising her hand. She did not earn a smile this time, more of an incredulous look and the professor turned the questions away from Elizabethan England and the teen lost interest.

The redhead zoned out, the professor’s voice a monotonous drone in her ears as she remembered playing a game of tennis with Robert Dudley one warm summer afternoon while Waverly and Elizabeth watched on, along with Dudley’s wife. Waverly had been incessantly throwing flirtatious winks and nibbles of her lip at the duke, trying to distract her from the game. Cutting through her daydream, Nicole’s ears picked up the words “project” and “partner” and she began listing off names, the next thing her ears picked up was “and Nicole,” but she didn’t look up to see who she was paired with. Finally, the professor released them for the day and Nicole grabbed her backpack and headed out the door. Nicole was shoving her way through the press of people in a crowded hallway when she heard someone call her name.

Nicole turned to see who it was and for the second time in her life, she came face to face with an angel. The redhead’s jaw dropped and her throat constricted. “W-W…” she stuttered and the angel smiled at her, her cheeks dimpling and hazel eyes squinting as she brushed her sandy brown hair behind her ears and finished what Nicole was trying to say.

“I’m Winter Devonshire. We’re paired up together on our Medieval European History project.”

“Winter… Devonshire.” Nicole repeated uncomprehendingly as her brain struggled to replace Waverly with Winter.

“Yep.” She said, still with that smile Nicole knew so well. Someone in the moving sea of people around them bumped her, careening her into the tall redhead, and she huffed directly into Nicole’s face. It was _her_ scent, the one Nicole knew so well. She stayed pressed against her, whether of her own accord, or if the redhead couldn’t get her hands to release the brunette and risk losing her again, I’m not sure. But she squinted up at Nicole, green eyes crinkling so familiarly, and breathed out, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Nicole grinned rakishly, feeling like herself for the first time in many days, and flirted, “Depends. Do you believe in past lives?”

Her hazel eyes lit up and she beamed up at Nicole, before replying, “Indeed, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one's disappointed! One of you called it, and I worried for a week straight that I'd been too cliche, but decided "fuck it," we all need some fluff and feelgoods in this day and age. :) Thanks again for sticking around. I had such a blast reading everyone's comments and seeing the kudos count climb, not to mention the actual research and writing that went into this. I'm fleshing out a new fic idea I've had percolating for a while (of course WayHaught, and of COURSE historical, ARRRRR you in? ;] )


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